DenAme, AmeCan, RusCan, NorBela Randomness
by TailedKitsune
Summary: Do you like DenAme crushing on eachother and not knowing it? Funny AmeCan broship n awkward cest (not really just mentions it)? how bout a less scary Russia? less crazy Belarus? a funnier Norway? then read this. Continuously updates from time to time. Everybody has their own segments... POVs. collection of oneshots and drabbles. every chapter id for one character or two.
1. Denmark: America's bday party at my hous

**Denmark: America's Birthday at my house!**

"We are here in front was Mr. Denmark's house as we ask him any clues on the party this July 4!" said a small English lady with sandy-brown hair, green eyes, glasses, and bushy brows. She gestured her cameraman to follow her as she walked to the porch.

*Knock* *knock* *knock*

The two heard a muffled thud then followed by shuffling and soft Danish curses. Then the door opened, giving the two a sight to stare upon. The Dane only wore red saggy sweatpants that hung lowly on his awesome abs. Their eyes went up to the large chest as they followed the path of scars and scarce light hair. Then they went down again to his huge arms…still scarred before finally looking up at the cute confused face of the man who had a bagel in his mouth and his eye glasses slowly slipping off his nose.

"Am I in a gag show or something?" he looked at them as he munched on his bagel.

"Oh…um…I…we…I mean we're here to ask for any details about the part tonight?" the small woman asked as he fixed her pencil skirt.

Matthias's eyes widened and he slammed the door loudly. His colorful Danish language was heard softly through the oak wood. Shuffling sounds reemerged as well as another thud. The two looked at each other deciding between going home or waiting.

"S-sorry, I took so long to shower!" the door reopened now with a fully clothed Dane with a towel patting his damp hair. He wore a red dress shirt with black pants. His hair was down, covering his left eye with the fair hair.

"So you want some info about tonight's party? Sure why not." He closed the door behind him placing the wet towel on his shoulders. His smile was big and friendly.

"Me and America are like awesome friends…so like, it's gonna big and loud like him. Colorful food everywhere, awesome fireworks, booze, ear-splitting music! It's gonna be like we're in America!" he laughed loudly, the small woman's brow twitched as she recalled the last time she ate America's _'colorful'_ food.

"A-are you sure that it's a great idea to do that? I mean…American food…" asked the camera man eliciting death glares from the taller man.

"And what's wrong with his food? It's awesome. He totally gives me a dozen home-made cookies every time we get together. And as an awesome friend, I give him a bunch of bagels that I hand make and decorate myself" he huffed with his arms crossed. "…I-it's not because I like him in another way…I-I mean we're just bros" he looked at the two with a face as red as a tomato.

"Why would you t-think that? I-I think you got all that you need from me?" he tensed his shoulders as he went back inside.

"GOD DAG!" he shouted before he slammed the door shut leaving the two Brits stuck on place with faces of confusion.

* * *

"Norge~ it's America's birthday today!" the Scandinavian fire ball ran towards his friend's house shouting the phrase every two seconds. He knocked hard on the door, his smile, still big, as he waved the Danish and American flag wildly together.

"Norge!" he hugged the smaller Norwegian earning him a smack on the head.

"Why are you constantly shouting that? We know already! You annoy us every year to come and celebrate! Has it ever occurred to you that he doesn't know you're even doing this for him?" the cold Norwegian crossed his arms.

"That wasn't very nice!" pouted the larger man. "Anyway? Are ya coming or what?" he extended his big arms.

"No…you see I have a guest to attend to" he smiled smugly as he fixed his clothes. He was still ripped but he was a bit smaller in frame being a queen for so long.

"Oh? Who, min ven?" he asked peeping inside.

"Hey, Nor! Thanks for coffee, it was awesome. Oh yeah, thanks for inviting me here for my birthday…so awesome of you to invite everybody here! Oh, Den-dude, how's it hanging, bro?" the American walked out of the living room to the main hall.

Denmark looked in shock. _Why is he here?_ He looked at Lukas who gave a small smirk.

"Anything for a friend, Alfred" he smiled softly. Yup, he smiles. He looked at the shocked Matthias T_echnically, I'm closer to America than you!_

The Dane tensed…he was right, relations-wise Norway has closer ties to America…there are more Norwegians in America than Danes…If he remembers right at one point; America had more Norwegians than Norway. _B-but we're closer as human friends._

"Again, thanks, Lukas." **_L-lukas!?_** Matthias was taken aback. America never called him by his name. He looked at Norway.

_Think of this as revenge for humiliating me at __**her**__ party! _A toothy grin crept Lukas's face. It wasn't Denmark's fault that he accidentally made Norway spill beer on Belarus's gown on her birthday.

_hvad skal jeg gore?_ He gave a serious glare to Lukas. The smaller man behind America gave another smug smile _ikke besøke meg i en måned…Oh yeah fix me up with Natalia!_

_F-fine._ Denmark could live without a month of company, right? At least America wasn't gonna spend his birthday on Norwegian soil.

"Oh, I am so sorry, Alfred. But an important event just popped up and my boss needs the house for a get together as well" Norway lied coyly. He always got what he wanted when the American was involved…and now he was on _'Stalk-Belarus' _mode.

"Aw man…it's okay, Lukas! I guess I'll have to find a hotel nearby to host the party" he smiled weakly. Now was Denmark's chance.

"You know…you could have the party in my house" he placed his hand over his mouth pretending to cough.

"Really, Den-dude? Are you sure it's okay?" the American's eyes twinkled in a childish manner that the Dane found too cute to refuse. He hid the American flag he was holding and fixed his hair coolly.

"Of course, Alfred" he emphasized his friend's name only to be replied with a cocked head.

"Um…dude, you never call me _'Alfred'_. Are you angry or something?"

"NO! I am not… er…you know, I thought you'd like it…um d-dude. Anyway it was silly!" he smiled through the sweat forming on his brows.

Norway rubbed his temples feeling so sorry for the Dane's lack of clever excuses. At least he'll get a good laugh at this, a month without a single visit from the Dane, and probably ask Belarus out again.

"So are y-ya coming o-or what?" the big Matthias's head was hang low in a blush and his whole body was a stiff board of wood.

"Sure dude! Knowing you it'll be so awesome!" smiled the American who dragged his friend out of Norway's house.

_He…he's holding m-my hand! HE'S HOLDING MY HAND!_ The older nation was in pure bliss as he walked briskly in time with Alfred's own pace.

* * *

It hasn't been five minutes since they arrived his Danish friend's place but it was already decorated with red and white stripes and stars all in blue, white, or red. Baskets of freshly-picked flowers adorned the lamp posts while blue streamers ran from one lamp post to another. America was pleasantly surprised, _Denmark really works fast and he's so awesome for doing this on the fly! _The American was oblivious to the weeks of preparation the man did for this one day or that this even was an annual occurrence.

He looked at Denmark who was looking at blue prints and discussing some matters on the fireworks display tonight, of course in fluent Danish. _He shouldn't have to plan fireworks too! I'm just a guest here…maybe I'm overstaying my welcome._ Of course Alfred could understand what Matthias was saying…he's not called the cultural melting pot for nothing.

His gaze was concentrated on the face of the oblivious European. A sudden flash of the man's icy-blue eyes instantly froze America in place, making him smile awkwardly to answer the Dane's sharky grin.

_He's so awesome-looking_.

_I didn't expect to get a call from Norway to go to Northern Europe. Of course I wasn't going to say 'no'. It was probably for the best to take the 4__th__ of July as my break, finally. It's not so cool to worry about the food or the booze and the entertainment, the guest list…which I hate, it is my birthday after all, everybody's invited, not just politicians and whole Hollywood. Thank God that those parties are days before the 4__th__. My real b-day usually starts in the morning and ends at about 9:00. Countries are very busy…and I doubt anybody likes me enough to stay long. When me and Canada are sure that nobody's left, we usually just sip on our mug of beer casually, eating the left-overs and watching a movie._

_It may come as a surprise to my frie-I mean collea-I mean acquaintances that I don't like extremely big parties. America likes big parties, not Alfred .I'm just happy when people are enjoying themselves, but not enjoying themselves too much to the point that my carpet still has a weird smell of vomit and other bodily fluids…_

_Anyway, I'm just happy I get to spend time with…him. Have you ever had that feeling? The feeling you get when your crush is extremely nice to you and seems to always like your company? The feeling of your heart collapsing inwardly then bouncing right back up? Those butterflies in your belly? Or how about the feeling of light-headedness when he gives you a small smile? _

_That's how I always feel when Matthias's around. Yup, 'Matthias'. I really just don't like calling him by that…maybe he'll think it's weird or maybe it's already weird that I've been staring at him for about a solid five minutes._

America's cell phone rang making him fumble and catch it in mid-air. It was his ever awesome brother, Canada.

"Yo, my Canadian Bro!"

"Al, so how's Norway?"

"Oh…plans changed! I'm totally celebrating at Den-dude's tonight!"

There was an audible snickering coming from the other line.

"What's so funny, Mattie?"

"Nothing. nothing, mon frère. I just wish I was there to see the look in your face when he volunteered"

"For your information, I wasn't squealing when he did. Hell, I was cool and awesome when I did it!"

"Keep telling yourself that!" the Canadian laughed loudly before quieting down when there was no obnoxious laugh or a retort from the other line.

"Al? are you still there!"

"Y-yeah. Mon frère…pourquoi ne pourrais-tu venir avec moi?" asked America in his borther's other language.

"Al…Kuma…er…Kumafuji's sick and you're the only one I trust in taking care of him. You know how he gets when his sick and couple it with air travel…would you want me to describe you the graphic nature of what happens next?"

"Fine…but you owe me cake when I get back"

"Please" said Canada sarcastically "why don't you just get a piece of Denmark?"

"M-MATTIE!"

"Oh sorry, it was my French side"

"Dude, don't make lame excuses or do I have to kiss ya again?"

Canada flinched "Y-you promised we won't talk about it again!"

"Did I, oh Mr. _'Yes, Al more…more…ugh'_ ?" laughed America in his normal obnoxious manner.

"Okay, wise-guy, just have a good time…it's rare for you to ever have that when you're home"

"'kay, Mattie"

"Say hi to Denny for me!"

"Mattie."

"Oops, French side…Ohonhonhonhon!" was the last thing America heard before clicking his phone shut.

* * *

"Hey, dude, want some beer?" cooed his crush with two mugs in his hands. America saw him in romantic slowmo as the crisp sunlight reflected on the smiling his face. As a result of the slowmo, he could see Denmark about to step on a random marble on the floor. America dashed as the slowmo progressed.

"DUDE LOOKOUT!" he screamed in slowmo. While the Dane looked confusingly why the world was suddenly on slowmo. He was totally scared, slowmo was weird.

As always the hero was there just in time catching him in a bridal style. Their eyes locked for a brief moment in slowmo.

"Ahh!" Alfred yelped as the cold beer poured out of the mugs to his body. The moment was over. Denmark got up obviously flushed in embarrassment.

"Dude, c-come inside I'll get you a shirt to wear while your clothes get washed" he gestured to his door. America followed him silently as the wet parts of his shirt emphasized the nippy Danish climate.

* * *

Denmark could feel himself heating up. _dumme dansker, du ødelagt alt!_ He cursed to himself as he got some shirts that were a bit smaller than his regular size. The Dane giggled as he imagined the slightly chubby American. He also got a regular sized one just in case America's gut was too big.

"Hey, America, I got some shirts…although I'm not sure if it'll fit just because I'm taller and you know, more rip-" his mouth hung low and his eyes pure white in horror.

America looked away, humiliated. He covered his chest and stomach protectively. "S-stop looking"

But Denmark, being a hard-headed nation, couldn't, before him was anything but chubby. His chest was evidently hard and sculpted. The huge arms covering it were like cannonballs, and his abs were better than any washboard. It actually reminded the Dane of his own body, just tanner…less scarred…a little smaller. **A LITTLE.**

"er…um this would suit you b-better!" he gave one of his regular shirts to the younger man. In turn, America grabbed the shirt in a hurry and turned his back to him. What a tight back it was…but then it was covered by a black dress shirt. Most of the Dane's shirts were dress shirts…his scars made him fairly insecure.

"Dude, I'm ready for the party!" smiled America with the first two buttons of the black cloth unbuttoned…giving Denmark some glimpse to the American's secret.

* * *

The Party was loud and crowded just as the American predicted. It was almost a photocopy of his party last year…you know without the decent food that was hidden in the back of the fridge. He did enjoy himself talking around with some of the party-goers and even coming across some war veterans…all of them surprised that he spoke in their native tongues. America smiled, seeing the bright lights of the lamp posts and hearing the shouts of young party-goers jumping with the music also with the Danish curses of older folks. He sipped on his glass of whiskey-cola that was free-flowing. He also munched on the tasteless fluorescent pink and green sludge bar. It was a good thing he learned to numb his taste buds…that's how he survived Arthur's cooking. With the puking children and hearing dares about eating the 'disgusting-American-trash' he was pretty sure it tasted traumatizing, especially when one kid opted to kiss a dinosaur of a man than eating it.

He looked around seeing if there was nobody he knew besides his Danish friend who was running back and forth between people who wanted more beer or wanted an autograph or an interview or sex…Thank God, he didn't say yes.

"Fredka? Oi, FREDKA!" waved a familiar Russian. He had his scarf placed over his neck and short sleeved shirt, showing his big arms.

"VANY!" he yelled as he greeted the Russian in a big bear hug carrying him off the ground. Yeah, last time they saw each other Ivan carried him so it was fair to do the same.

"I am very surprised to see you here, I thought you canceled your party?" asked the Russian as he chugged on his bottle of vodka.

"Well I thought so too, but here we are now, how did you get here?" he patted the Russian's broad back.

"Huh? But I am invited every year here?" Ivan gave a confused face. "Don't you know?"

But before America could answer he was pulled away by a strong Dane to the center of a big stage.

"It's time to sing a proper Birthday song…mine venner!" he shouted through a mike. Just like that, everybody sang him happy birthday. He could hear some English, Norwegian, Swedish and other languages across the sea of Danish words.

"Thanks, my Danish bros!" America gave a polite smile and bow before heading down quietly. The screams grew louder as with the music. America looked at his watch. _10:00 pm, this is going to be a long night._

* * *

America held his beer bottle tightly as he looked up the evening sky, quiet…peaceful. Finally. Maybe he should stop faking such a loud birthday party…wait he couldn't nations would laugh at him. He closed his eyes hearing the muffled bass of the giant speakers. He opened his eyes enjoying the sight of the bay. It was finally peaceful. He looked around to see the famous sculpture of the little mermaid. He didn't quite like how the original story ended, he should totally make a movie out of it. It'll be legen…wait for it…DARY!

"Hey Mattie!"

"Al?! why're you calling, isn't it like midnight there already?"

"Well almost…it's still six there, you know?"

"I know…must've dozed off, so how was it?"

"It's typical…**_America_**…"

"Oh sorry to hear that. Hey it's the thought that counts, right?"

"Of course it is…it was sweet. He did everything right…but you know, it's not really the party I really enjoy"

"*sigh* I know…maybe you should've talked to him first."

"Hell no! I've been keeping this charade up for two centuries. My awesome ego could get seriously bruised if I tell somebody now"

"You and your pride. Anyway, I have to finish up dome paperwork. Talk to you later. Just enjoy Matthias instead!"

"MATTIE!" he said sternly.

"I was just keeping the mood light."

"I swear, if I ever found out your crush…I'll shove my insults up your ass…hoser!" he mocked his Canadian brother.

"Hahaha, just take a stroll then, 'kay, Al?"

"Sure thing, Mattie!"

"A bientot!"

He turned around and started walking away.

"Ya could've told me, rascal" he heard a voice in a crisp Danish accent. **_R-rascal? He's pissed._** America's shoulders tensed as he looked to his side. Before him was the big Dane who was obviously sober but sweaty and his clothes were uncharacteristically untidy due to the dancing and moving through the crowds of people.

"W-what do you mean?"

"ya know what. _Typical America? _What the fuck does that mean? It was just some cheap knock-off?" the Dane snapped with his face in a deep frown of annoyance.

"No." America looked away.

"Then what the hell did you mean by **_'charades'_**? or **_'not really the type of party you enjoy'_**?" he waited for an answer but all he got was a fake cough.

"Don't ya know it's embarrassing to be calling on the guest of honor only to realize he left the party an hour ago?" he gritted his teeth. Honestly, he was hurt inside…he kept thinking how stupid he was to do this or how it fucking hurt when he heard those words from the American's mouth.

"Damn, I should've drunk some beer instead of keeping the party flowing and organized" **_Organized? It was chaos!_** America felt guilt struck him as the Dane clenched his fist.

"That's not what I meant, dude." America placed his hands on the bigger man's shoulder which he brushed off.

"Then what did you mean?!" he looked at Alfred with the coldest eyes he could muster that didn't include his really bad side.

America looked at the mermaid statue again "what I meant about **_typical America_**…was the loud parties…and the dense idiot I've been faking for 200 years. I really don't like parties like this…I just do it to keep others happy, that's why I only allow people to stay at about 9 or 10, because the rest of the night is just some quiet bro time with Canada. You know, a few cans of beer, a good movie, and of course real food that I make myself. I'm sorry if I lead you to the wrong thing…I just don't want people to know what I really like." He looked down to his feet.

"I'm going home now…I'll wait for the next plane to America in the airport. Thanks for the party dude! It was awesome. Hope there'll be more parties that awesome to come." He gave a wink before leaving with a heavy heart.

"Well, ya could've just said so…streets are cleared out and since there's no more bars opened…" Matthias swung his arm over the smaller American's shoulder. "We could totally use my alcohol cabinet."

"I'm sorry but I think I overstayed my welcome. I mean…it's an Al-Mattie thing" he explained to the Dane.

"Oh come on! You'd honestly want your party to end up as badly as it did?" the Dane pulled Alfred closer to his strong chest. "Plus, My name's MAT-thias! Practically Mattie too…so ya up for it?" he winked at America as he fixed his messy hair that was matted down by the sweat.

America smiled "Sure thing, Mat! I'm totally making you some of my awesome fried chicken! Got any movies in your house?"

"Of course I do…adult or general audience?" he asked with his eyes closed in thought.

"Oh no, No pornos. I'm too tired"

"Of course, anything for the birthday boy!" they stopped as the clock struck midnight and fireworks cascaded across the sky in a brilliant flash of blue, red, violets, pinks, yellows, and greens.

"Say, Matthias!"

"What?"

"You're officially invited to my after-parties…you know if you don't think it's too low-key and lame!" America looked shyly away.

"Oh please…even I want to calm down once in awhile. I am totally in"

The night was peaceful. America got what he wanted, a quiet get together and a night with his crush. Even Denmark couldn't have been any happier.


	2. Canada: The North American Broship

**Authors Note:**

**Hi guys...last time I forgot to write anything for the first chapter. Anyway...It's because I'm a total DenAme shipper. Anyway, Denmark celebrates American Independence...it's cute if you think about it especially since a lot of people outside of Denmark...maybe Dcandinavia don't know about it. hehehe.**

**Anyway, Here's my Canada POV line...it's just same random things that goes through his head. Also he is a bit OOC... I mean Canada, the country, is pretty cool and seems to be more exciting as how the anime depicts it. However it's still no reason to do an overhaul. Please enjoy! XD**

Most people see my brother as a dumbass. A really big dumbass. Of course, I get annoyed with him at times…but it's almost as rare as a four-leaf clover. We have the most open borders in the world; we are far closer than the Italian brothers probably because we did everything together before France and England. I knew he liked Denmark before he even accepted it…should I tell him that there's a high possibility that Denmark likes him too. Oh well, back to the story.

So Here I am telling you why I hate and love my brother, Alfred F. Jones, the United States of America and some of the most surprising things most people don't even know of.

**_I hate that he pretends not to notice me_**

It was an Allies meeting. You know, it was bad enough that all my efforts were thought to be England's but America was like lemon on a fresh wound.

"I feel like we are not alone aru!"

"Guys, I found out there are…six of us, D-da?"

"Non, It is impossible! Angleterre, hold me!"

"G-get away you b-bloody git" _(still trying to hide their relationship)_

"Yeah!" America said in a weird forced way. "It's soooooo…_weird_ that **we're six** in this room. It can't be a **_Canadian_**…_right?_" he winked at his supposedly invisible brother, me. Of course I got annoyed.

**_'Stop it, Alfred'_**

'Oh, wind _*Mattie*_ why are you talking to me?" he winked at me again.

"Amérique, do you have something in your eyes?"

"Oh don't worry, Frenchy. It's just some _*Mattie*_ stuck in my eyes!" he winked.

'**_Damn you! No more pancakes'_**

"Could you stop blinking, you bloody git!"

"Wah! Don't stop making them! Please I won't joke about you again!" America begged.

"O-okay, good…you see that's how you control an American. Be stern…but gentle" bragged Arthur.

"I wasn't talking to you…" scowled my brother. I just laughed it off.

**_But he doesn't really forget about me…_**

It's July. 1… 300am. He's gonna be calling soon, I can feel it, eh?

I looked at my door.

He couldn't forget…he never forgets me! I mean it's my birthday and he's the only one I celebrate it with so he has to remember.

The clock's ticking…I think he's not gonna come this time. I planted my face on my very soft sofa. He promised me that he'll be here at the exact time I was born…3:00 am! But he isn't here. He has forgotten his only brother…just like the rest of the world. *sigh* What's the point in living if nobody knows who you are?

I might as well just go back to bed…he might've been too lazy to have pushed his plan through this late.

I swear I'll give Alfred a good thwack in the head when I see him. I could feel my brows twitching.

Finally I was in the sanctuary of my bed. Of course the sheets were maple and Kumajiko (?) decided to sleep in the middle. *sigh* It's gonna be a pain to pry his close out of the place. I should probably just use the couch tonight.

*Crash* *shatter*

I heard ruckus from my kitchen. I got my hockey stick as I went down slowly. I didn't bother turning the lights on I could see the hooded figure before me and I smashed his head with my awesome weapon.

"You freaking hoser…trying to crash my house, eh?" I smiled triumphantly suddenly the lights went on.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MATTIE!" yelled my American brother. He brought his truckload of cats, his pet unicorn which we could both see, tony and his whale friend.

"Happy, happy birthday from all of us to you! A-ACHoooOOoOO!" they couldn't finish the routine as they all sneezed loudly at the same time.

"Sorry Mattie, I guess we got a cold from waiting five hours outside!" said Alfred as he rubbed his stuffy nose.

"Five hours? Hasn't it occurred to you to just wait 'til morning?"

"Nope. I promised to visit at your exact time of birth and it's 3:07…happy Birthday M-ma-ACHOO!" he sneezed loudly. He actually waited for the exact time. I could definitely feel a smile creeping up my face.

"How about we get some rest…we could eat the cake tomorrow."

"No! I baked this cake for 2 hours. It's Maple and Coffee" he pointed at the simply delicious looking cake with buttery frosting. It was obviously going to be mouth-watering too…being a concoction from Alfred.

"At least make a wish" he said as he blew on his nose. I went to the cake and blew on the candles. _I really wish people would start noticing me more. _That was my yearly wish…_also could you please help Alfred with his own problems, people just expect too much from him that he's starting to stress out._

"Okay Al! Now can we go t-" America was already asleep laying on the carpeted floor. I picked him up and placed him over the warm sofa, taking off Texas and placing it on the night stand. His friends were also sleeping so I got some extra blankets and draped them over the sleeping forms.

"At least you never forgot…"I looked at my brother's sleeping face as I ruffled his hair.


	3. Canada: The North American Broship 2

**_Author's Note._**

**_YUP. Another Canadian POV. I just have a lot of Ideas for it so please be patient. Norway POV is coming close._**

**_I hate that he eats hamburgers…and for all the wrong reasons._**

The conference was getting nowhere as always. I looked to my side seeing a smiling American with an **_untouched _**burger. I sighed but forced a smile instead. He was contently punching in the numbers of Germany's presentation in his mind at the same time he was taking mental notes that he never ever forgets. He's a freaking genius. He winced and looked at me.

_'He forgot to carry two!'_ he whispered in my ear.

"AMERICA, VHAT ARE YOU WHIZPERING! WHO ARE YOU TALKING TO?" shouted the strict German. America smiled like a child.

"HAMBURGERS!" he purred like a cat and started swallowing his untouched burger and then engulfing the rest coming from a plastic bag filled with hundreds of burger.

"Stop eating you bloody git!" shouted Arthur. America shook his head still devouring burger after burger. The countries finally called quits and sat down.

I looked at my brother who was forcing a crooked smile. "M-mattie…I need to puke like right now!" My brother's face was completely green. I extended my arms out and stood in front of America.

"INVISI-SHIELD!" Of course no one heard me yell…that was the point of this. No one was even aware that America was puking all of the contents of his gut on a large plastic bag. I keep telling him to stop forcing himself to eat hamburgers, but he always eats them during meetings…something about wanting to know what people really felt about him.

But if you think about it, he's sabotaging himself since he isn't really showing the real Alfred Jones.

I checked on my brother who just finished puking.

I looked around one last time and saw ice-blue eyes looking at me in acknowledgement. He smiled and waved towards me, I think.

His light blonde hair that stuck out in every direction.

He was Matthias Køhler AKA Denmark.

It's impossible, nobody could see me.

'Hey Canada!' he whispered happily

'Who are you talking to?' asked an annoyed Norwegian

'Canada!' he smiled

'Huh?'

Okay, so I wasn't completely invisible. I felt a tug on my shirt. America smiled drinking his homemade tea. "You can sit down now!"

"O-okay! INVISI-SHIELD: OFF!" I sat down and America immediately hid his anti-oxidant rich tea. I sighed…

**_ But at least he actually makes real food in real life…_**

I decided it would be best to spend the night with Al…he watched a horror marathon on the flat screen. I told him it wasn't a good idea, but he insisted since he was the hero. Do you know how hard it is to sleep when he's in _'I-could-pee-my-pants-at-anytime_' state? It's a nightmare. He'll knock to your room completely topless _(he said it would make the ghosts more intimidated) _with his blanket in a deep hug asking me to take him to the bathroom and when he's done he'd sleep in my bed…constantly scared of what could pop out of it. Then finally he'll be fast asleep minus the subconscious trashing, shouting, and snoring.

To keep it short…I didn't get any sleep last night.

Now here I was, looking at my brother as he made an _'I'll-make-it-up-to-you' _breakfast. He had his apron against his fairly tanned skin with his face forever fixed in a smile. I could smell the savory bacon as it sizzled with the blueberry pancakes I taught him to make. He suddenly shifted to his quaint barista corner as he whipped up some of his Maple-Marshmallow fluff Frappuccino. One of my favorites.

*DING*

"Awesome!" he smiled as he got his mitten and pulled out a batch of freshly baked cookies from the oven. They were heart-shaped snicker doodles. I fanned them for a bit before coming back to a full circle to the scolding pan of bacon.

"Finished!" he hummed a playful tune as he plated, ever so skillfully, the fluffy pancakes, the crisp bacon and two perfectly sunny-side up eggs. He handed me my favorite Frappuccino. He went back to the counter as he made sure that the cookies have cooled before glazing one side with a classic red glaze and then piping opaque perpendicular lines that crossed on the upper left side. It was the Danish flag.

"You know…mon frère, that is a bit too forward. I mean, hearts? Really?" I said as I sipped on the awesome frappuccino. It was really awesome.

"No it's not. I'm gonna give it to him after the meeting today!" he pouted as he started glazing and piping the rest.

Wait for it…

"You really think so?" he looked at me in a worrisome manner. As much as I hate to say it…I just wanted the cookies. It was just an added bonus that his cookies looked too girly and up-front. It didn't have any class or ambiguity to it.

"You should just make some chocolate-walnuts. He likes those, eh?" I suggested while I casually glanced at the mouth-watering cookies on the counter.

"You're totally right! It's not too obvious…perfect, thanks Mattie!" my younger brother smiled as he started cooking a new batch of cookies. Knowing his cookies, Denmark's gonna fall head over heels…

Everybody wins. I got my snicker doodles.


	4. Canada: Do not mess with North America

**_Author's Note:_**

**_Two stories in one...please enjoy. Hehehehehe! NA bros centered at the middle and end_**

**_I really hate that world thinks America's fat…_**

*knock*knock*knock*

"Hey, Alfred! Come out, you've been there for half an hour now, eh?" I asked concerned why my brother's taking so long. He opened the door with his shirt completely unbuttoned and neck-tie undone.

"M-mattie…my stomach doesn't feel right…" he patted his sculpted abs. It's no surprise; we go to the gym together…five times a week actually, twice on Saturdays. We even play football and hockey in a regular basis. But he did have a point, it was glowing red and hard…not hard because of the muscles but hard as if something's inside. Maybe stuck wind or water…I don't know.

"Alright…we're going to the doctor!" he started dragging him out but he refused.

"No! I don't want you to waste money on me!" he said with hands pressed on his abs. "Why don't we Google it instead?"

"Non, mon frère! Do you remember the last time we tried that? EPIC FAIL. Eh?" I said with arms crossed. I pulled out something from my bag. It was some sort of wrap-around jelly-cushion…it said in the package that the pressure plus the jelly was good for stopping stomach pains, but learning from experience things as outlandish as this rarely work.

"Here." I tossed him the gelatinous wrap. He looked at me questioningly. "You have to wrap it around your gut. It's like a cooling gel or something. Eh?" he puffed his cheeks.

"I'll look fat in this!" whined my younger twin. "Alfred FOSTER Jones!" he immediately snapped the belly-wrap around his mid-section.

"_*Sigh* _bye abs!" he pouted as he buttoned his shirt.

_That's why this happened…_

"America, you bloody git, you ruined the world because of Twilight!"

My younger looked at me with a _'Is-this-guy-really-serious?' _face. FIY, we represent our countries and we're all proud of it and all…but we're still human so that means we have some things we hate about our countries, we can formulate our own opinions and stands but we ultimately have to follow orders, it is a job after all.

Countries can therefore hate their own movies. In Alfred's case: twilight.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" he gave out a big smile. America was playing dumb again.

***FACEPALM!***

"Bloody GIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!" England tried to stomp on America's gut but he stopped upon making contact. Sloshing sounds made the Brit linger around the body. There was an uncomfortable silence in the room. With America's face embarrassed red and England's face plastered with disbelief.

"You're fat!"

"N-no, I'm not!"

"Yes, you are!"

America looked at me from behind, his face in a very childish pout. _'Your fault'_

Fine, I had my faults there.

**_But when the world *Cuba* turns on me…he's always there for me_**

"_*sigh* _that damned Cuba… my hair's not like my brother's. Why is it so hard for people to see that?" I got beat up by Cuba again. It didn't really hurt, I was as damned ripped as my bro. B-but I still got beat up. I really don't like violence, why can't people just fight with pillows?

"M-MATTIE?!" I heard that ever present voice of my brother. He tugged on my arm as he led me to the living room. He started undressing me and looking at the scrapes and bruises I got.

"Why the hell didn't you beat Cuba up? Damn it, you could kick a polar bear's ass but not that lard-filled commie?" he glared at me angrily as he placed some ice on my wounds. I winced with the sudden shock of coldness.

_"*sigh*_ Mattie, I'm sorry but that commie has crossed the line!" he grabbed his rifle with an intent of murder. I grabbed him by the wrist with my own strength. "MATTIE."

"AL! You freaking hoser! I'd rather keep you safe, I promised Mom!" He quieted.

"I promised the same thing…dumbass" we stood still as memories of our Native American flashed before our eyes. Her strength, her wisdom, her heart.

"If someone beats the crap out of you again…I'd make sure there's one less nation in our conferences" my American brother's eyes glinted in darkness.

"Calm down, America. I promise to kick his ass next time? 'Kay? But 'til then…I'll also be making sure that anyone that's gonna hurt you will get a taste of hell" I smiled as I felt darkness in my heart as well.

"North American bros?" he smiled inviting me to bump his fists.

"North American bros." I bumped it.

Forever, we are brothers and blood is always thicker than water.

We will protect each other when the world crumbles. It was our mother's dying wish.

But I guess Mom had eyes on other protectors…

**_CUBA'S HOUSE_**

The Cuban had a smug look on his face. He finally kicked America's ass. He should call Canada. He opened the door to his room being greeted by an eerily cold presence.

"Hej, Cuba…" said a chilly voice in a thick Danish accent. The lights were turned on showing the big European resting on his bed.

"How the hell did you get in here!?" Cuba asked as he got ready to punch the younger-looking but technically older nation.

"I do not take kindly to people who beat America up" he completely ignored the question. His eyes glowed blue as his sharky grin took a sinister look.

"Get the hell out of my house! Estupido!" he pointed out the door. The respectful Dane was more than happy to oblige but not before placing his callous hand over the tanned nations shoulder. The ice started forming over Cuba's shoulder…a painful freeze, almost like a stabbing sensation.

"Don't you dare hurt America! got that, min ven?" cooed Matthias as he crushed his shoulder bone. "Oops, sorry…I got a strong grip" he smiled as Cuba gasped in pain.

The Dane exited calmly from the house. His absence allowed the room to go back to its normal temperature.

"Oh hello comrade Cuba!" said a rather thick Russian voice. He looked behind him to see the Russian sitting on the sofa. How do they keep on coming to his house?

"Russia? I thought you'd be happy that I kicked America's ass!"

"Why would I? We are good friends, da? Only our bosses hate each other. But I am not here because of him…" his tall stature made Cuba feel small "I am here because you hurt my precious Canada!"

"What? I didn't, I kicked America's ass, not Canada's!" he said defensively.

"Unlike my Danish friend who got the wrong information…I was there when you beat him up. So I am here to return the favor!" his aura radiated in a new type of darkness. But suddenly an explosion, fire everywhere and the house was now burned to the ground.

Cuba looked up through the rubble seeing Ivan walk away without a single scratch. Russia smiled.

On the bushes Denmark and Norway were hiding. They wore soldier helmets and had eye blacks on their cheeks.

"That's what happens if you mess with America!" Denmark smiled zealously.

"I don't get why we have to where eye blacks, it's night!" Norway asked annoyed as to why they had to go to Cuba at night.

He smirked.

Russia smirked.

"Mess with him…and you mess with me"


	5. Russo-Centric

**Author's note:**

**3 stories that have Russia as a focus...Yeah, I really don't think Russians are scary but most people well at least my friends do feel intimidated by Germans and Russians...Anyway that's why I want Russia to have a more softer...calmer...and more understanding in nature.**

**Also I remember the girl that swam the cold artic (?) ocean (?) between Russia and America and succeeded. She proved that there is no need for the Cold War.**

**So America and Russia are good friends, it's just there bosses who hate each other. Also, Canada is a bit uncharacteristically snarky in the frist part. Fair warning, he just doesn't like how Russia (I mean Ivan) acts around him.**

**Anyway I believe that the nations are just obligated to approve or implement whatever the boss wants but that doesn't mean that they don't have their distinct personality that may fluctuate from how they present themselves during meetings. It just makes them more interesting, you know?**

**THIS IS BEFORE RUSCAN COUPLING... I totally ship them too!**

**_...I hate that his friend's with…Russia_**

Yes…Why do I hate Russia? It may as a surprise to you but even though my relations with his country are a lot better than my brother's…I don't seem to like him.

I have nothing against Russia. I just don't like…Ivan Braginiski. Call me snarky by all means but it's just because he always seems to do everything that annoys me on purpose. He keeps following me and he constantly reminds me whenever my team loses in hockey, especially if it was against his team. Also he calls my pancakes good…if in all honesty they _(sorry if I'm gonna sound like my brother)_ are awesome! Also he always sounds blunt…I don't if it's just the accent though. He also keeps on bullying Toris and the other Baltics. Do I need to continue, mon ami?

So naturally I'd be even more annoyed since my American brother is usually around him and I'm always with my brother. He'd ask Russia for drinks or to play video games, sometimes just small talk or even conversations that last up to hours…and I'm always there sitting in the corner trying to avoid the lighter shade of violet staring at me. What's wrong with him?

"Quit" a Texan accent could be heard.

"Pulling" then a mid-Atlantic accent.

"On my"…New-Yorker

"Nantucket, dude!"…Surfer dude.

My brother was changing between different accents across his country, all because a curious Russian was pulling on his cowlick vertically. It's funny but…every country has their small quirks and I can't help but feel sorry for my brother and feel incredibly infuriated with the Russian.

**_IVAN._**

"No…It is so funny!" smiled the Russian. "What if I pulled it from side to side?" Russia looked innocently as he did just that.

"NYET!" yelled my brother talking in Russian.

"Oh…so you can talk Russian, Da? I want to know more!" he pulled on it again.

If you're wondering why America hasn't kicked Russia's ass yet, it's because pulling on Nantucket also makes his limbs feel numb.

"dejar de joder"… Spanish

"avec mes"…French

"валасамі(valasami)"…Belarusian

"kommunistischen"…German

"Bastardo"….Italian. Russia smiled absent-mindedly letting go of the straying piece of hair.

"mi van, ha húztam a sál?" Alfred was stuck in Hungarian. The strong American then gripped the Russian's scarf and pulled it away.

The Russian stood for like five seconds…his eyes wide and mouth opened wide. I didn't get it; Alfred was also waiting for something to happen. I crept near my brother and pulled on Nantucket to the North West and shook it a bit.

"Thanks, Mattie"

"No prob, bro!"

Then Ivan burst out laughing, rolling on the floor, his eyes tearing and his feet kicking.

"G-give me back my S-sca-aaahahahah!" he laughed louder. We looked at each other, confused. The weak Russian stood up trying to cover his neck with anything and everything.

"My…*pant* scarf *pant*protects *pant* my neck *pant* from getting tickled… *sigh* bythewind" the Russian scowled shyly. We laughed so hard that it was as if there were like 50 people in the room.

"Sh-shut up!"

"And I thought it's going to be better than that!"

"OUIIII! WHAT A HOSER!"

"N-not cool"

At least at the end I had a good laugh with my brother. But I still don't like him

_Alright let me be more general…_

**_I JUST HATE IVAN BRAGINISKI_**

I was just walking down the snowy streets of Alaska. I was in my brother's state. Mind you…MY BROTHER'S STATE.

"Privet Kanada!" chirped an all too annoying voice. I forced an unconvincing smile.

"What is it…**Russia**?" I asked trying to keep my hatred in.

"I beat you in hockey last week, Da?" THERE. That was it. He always rubbed it in my face when he one. I hate losing in hockey. I HATE.

"Well it's just because you're a cheating hoser, eh?" I scoffed. I HATE.

"Oh, do not be rash…Prive-

"Do not call me that… I AM NOT YOUR FRIEND. Damn Hoser" I just snapped. I don't know why I did. Usually I just let him annoy me for hours with me answering with witty one-liners.

"Our bosses might be friends. Our countries may be in good terms too. But I…Matthew Williams, am not in good terms with you, Ivan Braginiski." Russia just froze. Maybe I was a bit too much. But before I could even say sorry, he smiled and walked away.

**_CHIBI DRABBLE: COLD WAR BUDDIES!_**

The childish America ran up to the equally childish Russian.

"Ivan! I made a new agreement between you and me! I rewrote it like ten times…hopefully this'll finish the cold war!"

"Oh? Let me see…Fredka"

The honey blonde gave him the paper. The Russian gave it a quick glance before smiling and texting something on his cell phone.

"I also agree that we must stop nuclear threats for world peace"

"AWESOME!"

Then Ivan's phone rang. He flipped his phone and took a look. He smiled weakly as if saying _'I'm sorry'_

"What is it, Ivan?"

"Oh…um…you see, my boss agrees too"

"So, that's good…"

"But he wants to keep the Nuclear missiles outside to make sure people know…I'm superior" his eyebrows twitched. The cold war was far from over then.

America pinched his nose bridge, taking in calming breaths.

"I need to drink…wanna come?"

"Sure!"

"Dutch treat?"

"Da!"

**On the window a fairly clingy Dane was plastered against the clear glass as the two friends walked away. He had his face crunched into a deep scowl. He unglued his face.**

"Why can't ALFRED be with me?!"

**_~AWKWARD STARES~_**

"What're you looking at? I'm pretty sure ninety percent of you are stalking them too!"

The people looked away, except for the ten percent who really just wanted to drink some coffee.

**_*DENMARK*=_**_banned by Norway to see America since the NATO fiasco._

**Russia's POV****: Why must Maple syrup burn like lava?**

I just wanted to look away. I didn't want him to see I was hurting; he might hurt me even more. I thought I was already in the friend-zone…just another border crossing to possibly… lovers (?) I don't know why of all people… my 'dead' heart would beat for that Canadian. Alfred doesn't know I like his brother…and I'd keep it that way.

I remember Holland in a wheel chair for three months when he asked for America's blessings for a Dutch-Canadian union.

The Northern Americans are scary…but I don't mind. They're actually very nice to me. Correction, at least one of them is nice to me.

I slumped down on a fairly hard wooden stool in a dusty Alaskan bar. I knew I shouldn't have stalked him all the way here.

"CLING"

I turned around to see a very Drunk American. He stumbled to the stool next to mine.

"Dude… th'stuped…bartend'r ki**_*hic*_**cked me out...Said **_*belch*_** Iwastoodrunk. Could I **_*hic*_** cra**_*hic*_**ash 'ere?" asked my friend to the bartender who nodded.

"Oh… *hic* VANY!" he squealed wrapping me in his surprisingly strong arms.

"Stupid…stupid BAGEL BRAIN! **_*hic*_** I was just **_*hic*_** looking after 'm!" Alfred slurred. I opened my eyes in shock. Was he really talking about privet Denmark?

"I mean **_*hic*_** why the F**_*hic*_** would I let my **_*hic*_** self fall for that Dumbass! Wha-bout you? "

"I hear ya, I have feelings for some guy too, ya know!" America's drunken eyes opened in recognition. "I mean…I try my best, Da? But that stupid Ca- I mean guy just throws it aside!" the drunken American just nodded uncoordinatedly.

"I mean **_*hic*_** what's attractive about that old Dane**_*hic*_** anyway? Besides…perf'ct ass…or h's abs a-and pecs or how he **_*hic*_** gives me free bagels…or lego…or-or his **_*hic*_** smile… and how **_*hic*_** he always makes m**_*hic*_** smile…" America ranted out everything he loved about the older nation. I mean, his even older than me…but he practically looks to be America's age.

"Yeah. Bros before hoes…that is what you say in your country, da?"

"Hell yeah!" he hugged me tightly. I inhaled his intoxicated scent. He smelt heavily of beer but he also smelled like the fresh forest air…Could this be Canada's scent also? My mind wanders to a bed of fresh sunflowers with Canada on top moaning with me…I don't care if I top or not. I just wanted him.

"Vany! Come with me!" said the American slightly sober. He got my pipe and licked the base. His eyes shined in a lustful hot blue. "Let's see if I can stuff this in you?" he smirked evilly. Before I could refuse he cornered me into a melting kiss…the rumors were true.

~TIME SKIP~

America was kicked out of the bar. He started looking for a new one. I was definitely flushed…I just got my ass handled with a pipe…among other things. He was definitely rough…and I thought I was rough. Maybe it's just my heartbreak talking.

"CLING"

"OH! IT'S YOU! IVAN, BUDDY!" I heard a very full voice from behind. I turned around to see, messy-light blonde hair, strong-cut features, and that trademark smirk. It was Denmark. Thank God, I had like a bottle of Vodka in me already.

"Got kicked out?"

"JA! 'M GONNA DRINK HERE INSTEAD!" He skipped happily to his seat. "DAMN IT! I HATE THAT AMERICAN! AT LEAST YOU HATE HIM TO YOUR CORE, RIGHT?"

"Oh…um… d-da?" I lied, this was too interesting too pass up.

"He's like totally careless…what if he gets hurt or **_*hic*_** killed. Damn it….I don't what I'm gon**_*hic*_**na do if I see even on scratch on his perfect **_*hic*_**face. I'd beat the crap out of any**_*hic*_**body in a ten kilometer rad**_*hic*_**us. Wait…you're his enemy here!" The Dane's eyes were closed like Italy's but miraculously, he could still see me…I think. He lodged his axe on the wooden counter. "IF YOU TRY TO HIT HIM…I'll butcher you!"

"N-no…I am not going to do that!" I smiled softly. So he likes him too.

"So…ah what did you have?" I asked after chugging down on my Vodka, trying to make him recognize my awesome alcohol tolerance.

"Oh… I had like two barrels of beer…then about 3 bottles of whiskey…Oh yeah; I totally stole some Vodka from a Russian specialty store." He explained in a slightly slurred manner.

**_My confidence plummeted down._**

I was obviously shocked. He should be dead by now. The next thing I saw was that my Danish friend was stripping. He cocked his head in confusion.

"What're you looking at?" he moved in closer. I looked at the pale, scarred body…he had a very good one in fact, must've been a lot of work to get it. Almost every inch of him was covered with scars or burns but it still looked relatively clean and intact. How I wonder what hell he has experienced? He placed his hands over my shirt and started ripping my clothes of.

"YOU SEE! WE'RE LIKE SCAR BUDDIES!" he grinded his body with my less scarred body. He suddenly looked at the discarded pipe littered in the floor. "Do you…pleasure yourself with that?"

"n-no!" God, where the hell is the damned bartender?

He smirked.

"IVAN! HAVE YA TRIED FISTING?" he had an XD face. I had no choice plus the more activity; the more I could forget of Canada. He swung me over his shoulder like a rag. I looked at the door, torn between hot sex or leaving with a shred of dignity, my hands patted his perfectly hard ass with his uneven gate leading us to the bathroom.

~TIME SKIP~

Denmark got kicked out too, but not before I got my ass done again…with my pipe…a vodka bottle…the Dane's…ugh…among others.

Most people might've seen me for more of a sadistic top, but I'm actually pretty lenient. Plus…I think it's just because people assume that I'm a cruel bastard or how I like quarrels, which I don't…maybe a little. It is good to let out anger, Da? So I let them fight, they'll make up afterwards. That is how I settle disputes, throw some good punches let them tire out enough to talk then have a good laugh about it. Maybe it's my lack of strength control. Maybe it's because of my accent…it's pretty hard to convey sarcasms or jokes. Don't they know that my aura's just a sign of sarcasm? I sound like a teenage girl in my head. Maybe it was because I'm plain, old, scary, foreboding Russia. Maybe that was what the Canadian saw.

_Sigh_

Honestly, I really don't have a real superiority complex or a crazy masochist thing…maybe I should improve on my people skills. I might even take lessons from…

Italy?

No.

Germany?

LOLZ.

Prussia?

A waste of time.

Maybe I just have to take time to adjust…re-plan my strategy.

"CLING"

PLEASE DO NOT BE ANOTHER HORNY DRUNK.

"Um…I-Ivan?"

I immediately turned around to see the Canadian hunk with a concerned smile. I wanted to run up to him but my sore…wait destroyed ass only allowed me to crawl.

"Boy, you must be very drunk, mon ami! Let me carry you!" without hesitation he gave me a piggy-back ride. Who knew he was strong enough. I could feel a blush pink creeping on my face. I'd seriously do him now…whatever he wants, I'll make it awesome for him. God, I'm drunk already.

"I-I'm really sorry, Ivan."

"No worries…pri-I mean Canada."

"Call me, Mattie."

"Alright, Matvey!"

"Sounds better actually"


	6. Canada: Favors for my bro

**_AUTHOR'S NOTE:_**

**_WARNING A BIT OF CEST...Just a bit. So if ya cen't handle it Don't read it._**

**_I hate that he pulls me into his personal problems…_**

"MATTIE!" Yelled my younger twin who leapt like eight feet in the air. I scrambled to try to catch him.

Thank God, I did. I sighed trying to keep myself from having a heart attack.

"Let's play football!" he cheered.

"Sorry…not in the mood"

"Not fair, when you want to play hockey, I'd do it even if you always kick my ass!"

"Ugh…Fine. My body just hurts, eh?" I replied but I could feel a big smirk coming from him.

"Aw, Mattie's hurt! I know what to do! Tickle therapy!" He started tickling my extremely ticklish mid-section. I could feel my hard abs **_(I-I'm proud…of them…I just don't like showing them off…that's all)_** contract and relax as I started laughing hysterically. "S-stop it!"

"Nope!" he started tickling my pits, even pulling on some of the hair as he went. Now I was on my knees. I could feel his crotch was rubbing up my ass. I laughed like a psychotic hyena that had too much drugs. America just giggled with my torture…Maple! I'm helpless.

**_*Ahem*_**

We looked to see Denmark, with arms crossed, holding a small paper bag and had a scowl in his face. We blinked at each other before realizing our strange position. We looked like we were doing doggy or something. We were both embarrassed, but not as much as America, who immediately stood up.

"*sigh* anyway, I thought Alfr…America would like this" he shyly gave the paper bag which America grabbed immediately, his face burned red. Denmark was also blushing wildly.

"I-I'm gonna go now" waved the blushing Dane. He then wrapped his arms around Norway who was waiting for him. He gave a stern look at me…almost as if jealous or something. Hmmm…why would he look at me like that? Oh well, why bother?

I returned to see America pouting with a lot of cream and strawberry jam around his mouth and nose.

"Strawberry bagel."

"Any good?" I asked him patting his back.

"I ate it all…you need any clues?" he answered in an annoyed and stern voice.

"Aw…you're so bashful all of a sudden. Is it because it's from…him?" I teased.

"Sh-Shut up! He's with Norway" He pointed out Denmark who was hugging his Norwegian friend tightly. I looked back at my brother who was biting his lips trying not to scream, as if his bright red face wasn't obvious.

**_…which always leads to sex_**

"You, come with me!" said my brother hoarsely. He pulled me into a close closet. He started grinding me again…Oh no…this was bad. He only did this when he was frustrated. NO. I cannot let him win this time, I have to say no. I wasn't drunk or high or frustrated.

"Alf-" I was cut off with the wild tongue of America…his lips was a force to be reckoned with…not only did he know a hundred languages but he had a tongue that could rival the French and the French-Canadian. FUCK! What the hell am I talking about? Maple, I can't…

"AH!"

"You're body's so freaking hot Mattie…literally and figuratively." He pressed his uncharacteristically cold hands on my rock hard abs…his eyes look different. M-maple. " Just like mine." He whispered in my ear as he guided my reluctant hand on his warm and strong chest. He stopped pulling off our glasses, his eyes were filled with sadness " I wish…I could do this with Denmark someday…but…" He glared with dark eyes.

**_GULP_**

He kissed me with such force that I couldn't think straight. He was my brother…but during this moments I don't care, neither does he.

**_But at least he feels sorry in the end (?)_**

He placed his hands on his ass rubbing it comfortingly through the denim. Yup…he was at the receiving end this time…he wanted to be. He started buttoning my shirt while he looked down to an imaginary well. He then just sat on his ass in complete silence.

"S-sorry, Mattie" he said softly shyly bringing his legs near his body. *sigh* I can't stay mad at my little brother, plus I did let him push through with it.

"It's okay, Al. I did let you do it" I patted my American brother's head. He pouted with his puppy dog eyes looking straight through my heart.

America stood up feeling a bit shaky as he tried to regain the feeling of his leg's existence, wasn't my fault he was the one who kept pushing deeper. I feel like I'll have a hard time putting briefs for the next few days.

*sigh* things I do for my brother.


	7. Norway: I'm awesome too

_**Author's note:**_

_**i really like Norway too...hehe but with Belarus. I do like reading DenNor friendship...but nothing that deeper. Maybe Fluff but not smut. Anyway...here's he's POV! Plus it's a bit connected with the previous chapter.**_

My annoying _'boyfriend'_ was straining his eyes to look back without turning his head or body around. He blushed in an almost crimson palette. His eyes were now glued to the door at the end of the over-exaggeratingly long hall. His eyes shined with the beams of light as he looked at me with a childish pout.

"Do you think there's something between sweet Alfred…a-and **HIM!**" he gritted his teeth as he was reminded of the brotherly scene earlier. I huffed.

"It wouldn't have happened if you gave America the bagel earlier. Stupid Dane." My ex-king placed his arms around my hips and gripped me tighter, almost cracking my hip bone. He cuddled his chin with my hair and started to sniffle comically. He kept making cooing sounds and long breaths faking a loving scene between us. I could actually hear America's teeth gritting.

"Well it's not my fault…that he…um…W-what's it to you anyway?" he pointed out. How this Dane could be so wrong. He was scared of giving the bagel that was the only reason. Also that was the only reason he never tried to have a more _'intimate'_ relations with the honey-blonde powerhouse.

_"*Sigh*_ I'm stuck with you…you're constantly bothering me. So I have no other choice than to entertain you" I said flatly. If you're thinking I have a crush on him or I'm a shit tsundere. You are WAY OUT OF YOUR HEAD. I just don't want him to make a fool of himself…and also I think America might do him good, for some strange reason. He's still my 'brother' and I'll make sure he doesn't make the wrong decisions.

_Besides… I already have my eye on somebody else. _

I stopped in my tracks…staring at the nation before me. His eyes…like the most perfect amethyst…His hair almost as white has snow…his face…like an angel with a big nose….his purple scarf. My heart skipped a beat.

Russia.

Oh no, I am not in love with that creep…although Denmark for some strange reason has good relations with him leading some fans to ship them. I've read some fanifcs…although I didn't quite enjoy imagining them.

No, it's the nation behind Russia, that's the one I want.

_…Lithuania?_

NOPE.

_Estonia?_

Hell NO.

_L-latvia?_

I'm not a pedophile. _*Sigh*_ I'm talking about the one in the corner…hiding in the shadows.

BELARUS! That grade A babe.

Man, what I would give to show her what it really is to be with a Viking. I'd give her what a women needs not only in bed. I'd love her 'til the very end. I'd show her real love. She'll never get that from Russia.

I remember the first time she looked normal. The time my heart skipped a beat. I was just lounging in a café when I saw her in tight black jeans, a collared shirt, and cute navy-blue vest with her hair tied back. She was an angel, sipping her coffee as she read some vogue.

I didn't notice her until she waved with a small smile. She assured me she was off for her crazy Russia spree. We hang out the whole day, before she shifted to crazy mode again. But I made sure every time she was off, I'd be the first one to get her breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I just need more time to tame that beauty.

"Norway! How are you, comrade?" asked the smiling Russian. I snapped out of my day dream and nodded before briefly seeing Natalia follow Ivan as he passed us.

"Guess somebody's spying on Natalia again~" cooed a voice.

"I-I am not! I was just thinking h-how stupid you are!"

"Hehe. I'm stupid…but aren't ya more stupid for fallin' for some psycho?"

"Says the man who fell for a kid not even half his age!"

"Ow…that's burns…well you're…ah…hmmm…I hate ABBA!"

"They're Swedish"

"Well then…I think I'm better at being Iceland's big bro…than you!" that irritating smile….

"AHHH! YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!" I punched him so hard that he went flying through the door. The whole hall vibrated as the giant crack spread to every inch of the space. He rubbed his head to ease the pain. He wasn't the only one affected, Russia got his head stuck in a painting that fell on him and Belarus was nicked by small shards of glass from the chandelier.

I saw my beloved rubbing her thighs while being checked by Lithuania.

**_Damn him._**

I ran up to them knocking Lithuania out of the way. Wait he was flying away, should I say.

"Are you alright, Nat?"

"I'm fine Lu." She smiled…_that smile._

"WHAT THE HELL JUST HAPPENED!?" yelled an American who had his hair in a fucking mess, his pants undone, his shirt disheveled, his palm and pits sweaty and he had no shoes on. He was followed by an equally messy…American(?)…oh wait, CANADIAN. Both blondes had their eyes partly closed, obviously afterglow still in effect, their shirts were sloppy giving everybody a near perfect view of the sculpted rocks underneath.

There were whispers in the background.

"I thought America was obese"

"Who's that guy?"

"CANADA"

"I thought he was like a freakin' twink"

I slapped myself. They just had sex…but the others thought more of their astonishingly toned bodies. I looked at the Dane with his eyes completely white in shock and his mouth hitting the floor.

"Th-they just had…" he grabbed my hand and dragged me away from Belarus. "WE ARE GONNA HAVE SEX TOO! Damn it….if that damn Canadian can defile that sweet American than I'm gonna defile you!"

"Hell no!"

I looked at Belarus one last time…she smiled and waved goodbye before turning back to crazy town. What a woman. Determination is my fucking turn on! She has gallons of it and I want it…I want her…I want her…I want her…I want her…I want her.

**_-THE MORNIG AFTER-_**

Of course, Denmark didn't get any last night…good thing he just went to a whore house…I heard that about 20 strippers couldn't attend work the night after…something about being unable to walk? I totally feel bad for those women.

I got my newspaper and it read….

**_"AMERICA and QUESTIONABLE 'AMERICAN(?)/CANADIAN/FRENCH-DESCENT(?)' ARE TOTALLY HOT'_**

**_…AWKWARD SILENCE…_**

….how can the world be so stupid?


	8. Belarus: My Wednesdays

_**VERY SHORT but for me it's the funniest thing I made so far...Well it's just me. Anyway, I wanted to achieve some roundess with all the characters this...whatever you call it story showcases...is it called a drabble collection or something? That's why America's smarter and caring, Canada's a bit louder and is not restricted to be a push-over, Russia isn't sadistic, per se; Denmark isn't really a one-sided D-bag...and Norway isn't restricted to a blank face. I mean...I still use a lot of their characteristics or infos shown throughout the series...but I actually wanted to give some random depth to each of their attributes. **_

_**Anyway back to Natalia, Belarus is actually very pretty so I decided that she just has some days where is Russia-crazy but other than that she's actually a very normal younger sister to him.**_

It's a Wednesday…which means it's my break from constantly trying to get my big brother to have sex with me. You don't know how stressful it gets; at least I have this day and weekends off. It's like my part time job…you don't know how much money Liz pays for even a tissue he **_might've_** used. I love my brother, but good thing my love for him can also be profited.

I'm an inland country…I'm nowhere near the sea, but I do have a national park with about thirty lakes in it. They're beautiful, blue, and calm. If you don't like that you should try the Minsk Zoo, maybe visit the Wisent. If you don't like European Bison then go to the National Opera and Ballet of Belarus, one of the leading ballet companies of the world. But if you don't like that just gaze upon our country-scape, it's clean and green. Try some Draniki on the way, our famous potato pancakes.

"Alright, my brothers… let the Bison protection club meeting begin!" I used my gavel. I looked around seeing the only two members of our small club. We all wore bison hats…because they're cute and strong.

"Sister Belarus…like what are we gonna totally talk about today?" peeped Poland. He likes them because they're like burly ponies.

"What about Germany!?" suggested America in a yell. You've seen America, buffalos are a national treasure.

"What about Germany?" I asked in confusion. Is he still angry about World War II? Oh wait, he doesn't know how to hold grudges.

"Remember after WWII?" *sigh* I should've known. He fell silent and looked at me…giving me a look that clarified his reasons were not anywhere near their fight. "He like crossed our buffalos and killed all the babies!"

"WHAT?! That's like twice as bad! I can't believe that he's against bison race-mixing! It's like racism…but worse!" shouted Poland.

"Alright, I suggest TP-ing Germany's house!" I suggested earning unimpressed looks. I smirked "soaked in Bison urine!" they immediately laughed in agreement.

**_At Germany's house_**

**_"WEST! Why the heel does your house smell like *sniff* *sniff* ugh… BISON URINE!" complained awesome Prussia with his nose pinched. What a horrible wake-up call._**

**_Germany sighed in his gas mask and gave one to his brother. "I knew killing all those bison would haunt me one day"_**

* * *

**Yey, I hoped you liked it! My next stories will be a teaser fro a fairly long Canada-centered story that I'm still thinking whether to post it hear or make another story about it...Oh yeah some Norway ideas are coming to my head...althought the surest thing in my mind right now is to right a story of Alfred alone in his house. I mean...Americans are loud but they're not idiots or self-centered...they're just liberated but they're NOT dense...I want to make America rounder**

**SORRY FOR MY CONSTANT RAMBLING!**


	9. Soft Snow trailerteaser

**_Hey there...just another chapter. I'm planning to make a DenAme fluff maybe after some time...I mean I already have a still continuing DenAme story (Rated M) posted...so maybe after that gets finished, I''ll post continuous fluff here...But of course they aren't the only stars here._**

RusCan: Soft snow

"P-Please...would you go out with me?" asked the quivering Russian on his knees with a bouquet of white roses and blossoms.

Canada was speechless, he was frozen in place as he looked at his friend.

Matthew was shocked...He did start to understand Ivan more as time went on, his brother was right when he said Ivan's just a soft plush toy when you get to know him...and the other nations just didn't understand his way of expressing sarcasm or how he usually did things.

"U-um..." the Canadian couldn't formulate an answer. He didn't know what to say, Ivan was like his best friend now and if he said the wrong thing he might start doing crack again.

"I-I know you're scared...but please just...give me a chance" said Russia weakly.

"A-alright, Vany..." Canada smiled shakily as he placed his hand on the hard shoulder. He was suddenly lifted off the ground as he heard snickers and squeals from the larger man.

"A-are you squealing?"

"W-WHAT N-No way!" Russia looked away in a crazy blush.

"Hoser." Canada laughed softly as the Russian blushed deeper.

_**That's it. LOL. I'll be posting it...I don't know when...this is the only part I wrote actually. Hehehe, my DenAme story still has a chapter and 3 arcs (5 chap each) to go. Sorry but I hope it'll be totally worth it for those who wait.**_


	10. Things Denmark does to impress America

_**Author's Note:**_

_**Hi...this fic is going extremely well... thanks a lot for the views and the follows. Thanks also for giving DenAme, RusCan, and NorBela a chance XD...I based this a bit on history.**_

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The things Denmark does to get America's attention

I went to my beloved's house this one time, when I saw a bunch of porn videos scattered under his bed, most were hot lesbian porn. You know the really hot ones with the biggest knockers. I had my own collection of lesbian porn too…we are so alike. We're practically meant for each other.

"WAAAAH! Dude…there's a reason they're under my bed!" the younger nation got all the porn videos that I scattered on the floor. "They're still illegal here" he looked away shyly.

Suddenly, I had an awesome idea that popped in my head.

~*TIME SKIP*~

"Hey, America~" I cooed as I touched his tense shoulder. He shuddered but gave me a sweet smile. The sweetest smile in the world as a matter of fact.

"Yeah?"

"I made porn legal at my place!" I smiled brightly.

"Y-you what!?" He said frantically. He must be so happy right now.

"You can totally move in with me…so you don't have to hide your porn stash anymore!" I started yanking him out of his house.

"Dude! I'm happy for you and all…but having a porn stash isn't really something we should brag about" he said in a worried tone. That was when I could finally read the atmosphere. I didn't think this all the way through again.

"Oh…I-I'm sorry, min k...I mean, min venne!" God, I almost slipped. I headed towards the door in a deep blush.

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**_Author's Note:_**

**_Denmark was the first country to legalize porn in 1969...but of course in all truth it had nothing to do with America. XD, it's just funny. Although...I'm already thinking of a fic like this where America tries to impress Denmark...but I won't tell you anything else._**

**_Oh yeah...all nations are bisexual for me...excpet for Sve. XD_**


	11. NorBela: Never Really Noticed

**_HIYA! I like this chapter...it was supposed to be RusCan, but I have something more fun in store for them! So Here's another Nat POV but it's a NORBELA FLUFF...FLUFF-Y...Almost FLUFF (?)...sorry I like making up crap like this! Please enjoy!_**

* * *

**_Never really noticed:_**

Hello again.

So it's a Saturday afternoon. This is a great day for a picnic. Big sister and Big Brother thought so too. I am here to pick up big brother in his house here in my country. You see, he loves me so much that he has a house…ON MY LAND!

I stopped in my tracks as I saw a familiar figure. His back facing me…but his snowy blonde hair was all I needed to see. IT'S BIG BROTHER!

I stalked him like a panther. He's wearing a form-fitting coat. His back faced me but I could already see his beautiful smile and his sparkling eyes! I need to pounce now!

"I GOTCHA BIG BROTHER!" I yelled as I hugged him tightly, making sure no oxygen was left in his system. Suddenly I noticed he wasn't as tall as my brother and though this man had an awesomely hard body…wasn't anywhere as big as my beloved brother.

"N-nat. It's me…Lu!" said the man with a thick Norwegian accent. Oh, it's Lukas. *sigh* he should dye his hair or something. I released him from the hug; his face was so red that Spain's tomatoes would be jealous. Maybe I shouldn't have hugged him so tightly; he's obviously out of breath.

"What are you doing here?" I asked with my normal, cheery smile. Again, this was my day off. I should invite him to the picnic.

"You should join us, we're having a sibling picnic today" I urged him not bothering to know why he was here in the first place. He looked away still red…what was wrong with him? I didn't squeeze him that hard.

"S-sure." Was his only reply before I grabbed him by his wrist leading him to my brother's Belarusian house. He has a house here…Yes…we're almost one.

"HEY BIG BROTHER!" I sing-songed as I kicked the door down to the floor. I knew he was in his room so I skipped merrily to the waiting door. He was moaning and singing…he's pleasuring himself. I have got to see this and make a copy…Liz is gonna pay me big.

I kicked the door and all of the sudden I could feel my happiness dissolve. The scene was hot…but it wasn't how I imagined it. Sadly, he wasn't naked. Well, he was only wearing boxer-briefs…but…but…

It was white with a red maple leaf in the middle. He looked at me in a confused manner…he hasn't caught on yet. My sweet innocent brother…what a slow man. He had his knees on the floor and an arched back and his arms folded up to his body. He was wearing eye glasses, big and fuzzy bear paws, bear ears and…and taped stupid hair curl that was limp, thin, and long.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!" I shouted. Russia flinched and finally registered what was happening. He's been discovered. My brother is obsessed with Canada…what the hell! Why Canada?

"S-sister…" he hid his large and taut body with a large blanket. "…It's not what you think!"

"You're obsessed with Canada." I crossed my arms.

"Alright…it is what you think" he said pathetically. I sighed…I'm taking my day off; I do not need this right now. Usually I'd be extremely homicidal by now…but I'm not a person without a heart. At least that's how I think of myself. Screw it, I'll win big brother's heart anyway so why bother with killing Canada?

"It's fine…fine. I'll just have to deal with him on Monday." I went out of the room.

I sat at the bar stool in Russia's house and sipped on some Vodka, I'm not sad…maybe just a bit, but I guess it's better than being homicidal.

"Need someone to talk to?" peeped a bland voice. Lukas took a seat next to me and chugged down a shot of Vodka as well.

"You really impressed me…I thought you'd be trying to kill Canada." I clenched on my shot glass. That was unbelievably blunt.

"I'm not some crazy bitch. Crazy about Russia, but I won't murder someone who might be oblivious to the whole thing"

**_At Canada's house:_**

**_"Kumajirou…I really feel like I dodged a bullet for some reason"_**

**_"Really?"_**

**_"Yeah, eh?"_**

"Have you ever had eyes on someone else?" asked Lukas. I cocked my head to the side; I've never crushed on anybody else besides big brother.

"Nope."

"Oh…uh…hmmm" he quieted down looking at his feet. He looked very cute actually, especially since you never really see what he's thinking. He's still unreadable but the faint pink paint across his cheeks made him look less of a corpse.

"I'll make some Draniki, want me to make some for you?" I asked him as I headed to the kitchen. He gave a small nod and smiled. You know…I've never noticed it before but he looks a lot cuter when he does smile.

I wonder what he looks like when he laughs.

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_**Next is another Russia story but I have some RusCan ideas at the back burner...I'm just waiting for some more ideas to ad to it! Okay, I hope you enjoy it!**_


	12. Let's spy on the North American twins

_**HIYA! Another chapter again. I've noticed that I handled DenAme and RusCan mostly in the views of the older nations, Denmark and Russia. Sadly this one is also centered around their views. I haven't put on much thought to the NA twins' POV yet, but I'm in the process. Anyway, I hope you like this one!**_

Let's spy on the North American twins:

Russia sat idly by on a park bench. He was in New York this week…and he has an eye for a certain Canadian. He was a respectable 50 feet away from his subject. He was smiling as he caught what his American friend called _'pig skin'_, before the younger twin also came to his view. He heard murmurs next to the bush next to him and saw his Danish comrade looking at something. It was probably something good since he had his mouth open in a smile.

"I-I'm looking at the hot chicks there!" Denmark saw Russia staring and pointed out at the young women doing yoga. Ivan believed him and thought of a lame excuse for him as well.

"Me too."

"Hey, Mattie…toss it already!" whined the American. The Canadian smiled as he threw the football in such a form that it revealed the beautiful structure of the Semi-French nation. Russia could feel his mouth water.

Alfred ran after the ball and then jumped to grab it. Everything seemed to slow down for the Dane. The smile of the American was breath-taking. His loose blue shirt fluttered with the wind, giving a glimpse of the beautiful torso underneath. Denmark's heart stopped. America then rolled to the ground and sprang back to his feet.

"Go long!" he yelled merrily. Matthew snickered softly as he ran back. "Mattie, look out!" cautioned the younger North American but it was too late. Mattie went too far and fell into the small pond in Central park.

"A-AL!" Matthew got up completely wet and splashed some water to his snickering twin. Alfred pouted.

They went back to where they played football when they stripped down their wet shirts. Their lightly-tanned and pale torsos made a lot of people stare but they were completely oblivious to the attention.

The mischievous American twisted his wet shirt and whipped his older twin right in the ass, making Matthew jump up. The older Canadian tossed his wet shirt right into the chuckling man's face, silencing him.

He tackled his brother, immobilizing him by pinning his ass and wrists down. Canada snickered as America struggled to get up. Alfred was breathing heavily and his face was flushed red.

The snickering stopped when the active young man did a hand stand which made Matthew fall on his back. America then went down to his knees as he straddled his brother, his hands gripping the Canadian's wrist tightly to the grass.

Canada trashed about with a heated look, something rarely seen from him. But America just chuckled.

"Say Uncle!"

"Non!"

"Uncle~"

"Fine…u-uncle"

America released his grip and helped his defeated brother stand up. They gave out a light stretch highlighting their abs before putting on some short-sleeved v-necks. Canada wore a pale orange one, while America opted for a sea-green color.

Denmark and Russia were now formulating sinful thoughts in their heads; they stood up and walked away in opposite directions.

"I…ah…I need to take care of something, Ja?"

"Da…I have some wood I forgot to take care of" Russia gave a pathetic laugh.

…

"Hey, Al…wanna go for some popsicles?"

"Sure dude, I know this great place down there."

Both nations stopped in their tracks and followed the twins to where they were headed next. This was too…um…important to let it slip by.


	13. Norway: America's cookies

_**HIYA!**_

_**This was just some random thing that popped up in my head. I'm totally scared that I'm a bit aloof most of the times, I mean most of the time i just think of what I should write or draw! XD...I am such a scatter-brain.**_

_**I kinda like this one and I hope you like it too!**_

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America's cookies

Norway just got a huge box from America, they didn't look like it but they're actually in very good terms with each other. Close enough to have a decent conversation with the exuberant nation, but not really that close to know his habits and quirks.

It was bright and colorful, something totally expected from the power house. Its neon red and blue strips made Lukas's eyes hurt. He got a knife and carefully opened the box, knowing all too well that it maybe something awesome but impractical or maybe something ugly and still impractical.

He opened up the box and saw a smaller box in it. It had a note:

_'Hey, Lu! I'm totally trying out Japan's awesome packaging technique! XD'_

The Norwegian man rubbed the middle of his brows. It was fine. FINE. He couldn't say no to someone who's just happy-go-lucky and incoherent. Wait…that's kinda how he described Denmark.

He opened the next box and the next one, and the next one.

Finally he got to the last box, which was still respectable in size. He sliced through the tape and allowed the anticipation to build up.

He literally jumped the box and rummaged for anything that looked note worthy. He found a dozen cookie butter jars, which he loved to eat for breakfast with a slice of bread, some sweaters and trench coats that looked very expensive. Some were a bit smaller and larger than others…must be for his fellow Nordics.

He dug deeper and found Cds and DVDs. Most were cartoons. It's what he usually gives them. It was like the whole box was fixed up by a child.

Lukas smiled softly…you could really see how hard he worked to fix this all up. He believed in gratitude, you know.

Lastly there were like five tin boxes. Norway cocked his head. Each one was colored according to the five Nordic flags. He did notice that the Danish one was a bit bigger than the others.

_'Hey, Lu! I just baked them…you know, cookies! Be sure to send them to Sve, Finny, Icey…a-and Mat's place ASAP! I mean I did FedEx them so they're aren't spoiled yet! Anyway, enjoy DUDE!_

_ -AMERICA XD' _

**_America + cooking=death…_**

That's what the whole of Europe knew and that's what they did to survive. He had to switch them for something else.

It'll keep him from hurting the young kid and still save the five of them.

He immediately went to his kitchen and put on his white apron. He rolled up his sleeves and got a large bowl, a tub of butter, milk, and flour.

**_~*TIME SKIP*~_**

The tall Norwegian fell face-first on his sofa. Making more than a baker's dozen, boxing them in an American way, and fixing the shipping fees were really tiring.

He could relax now, they were safe. His edible, divine cookies made their way safely to his brothers' houses.

He got a warm cup of milk and absent-mindedly opened a box of America's cookies.

He took a bite, still not knowing it was America's cookies.

His eyes opened widely and shined for a split second. He covered his mouth. He looked like he was about to puke.

Then tears streamed down his eyes and his mouth was forced to open.

Green sludge didn't come out of the opening.

It was anything but it.

A giant rainbow of sheer epicness came from his mouth as well as golden stars and glittery-shit. The force pushed him back to the wall.

This was happiness. This was like getting high, awesome sex…and everything else that was good in the world!

It was his first…

First…

**_MOUTH-GASM!_**

He thought it was just a myth…apparently not.

"W-who made this?" Norway kept shoving the sweet circles to his mouth. It was his new addiction.

He kept pushing the thought away. But after like five boxes of cookies, he finally came to the realization.

"…America made this!" he curled into a ball as his understanding of how the world worked crumbled like a cookie.

**_At Denmark's house_**

**_He munched on the cookie that came from a box that was supposedly made by America. He was excited but all of the sudden he frowned a bit._**

**_It was still delicious but…_**

**_"America didn't make this!"_**

**_He knew what it should've tasted like if it came from him. He's been given a bunch of them before. These cookies taste like Norway made them._**

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**YEAH...MOUTH-GASM! I just like it when Norway shows some emotion...alright this was a lot of emotion but I hope you liked it! XD**


	14. What the World did to me

_**HIYA! Um...I just have to say, it's a bit sad and depressing...I hope ur okay with that! Of course, every now and then...I'd be writing some serious stuff.**_

_**P.S. This is an America centered story! XD...first official one.**_

_**I'm thinking if I should add a flashback to this...anyway! ENJOY!**_

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What the world did to me…

**_XX/XX/19XX_**

_For __**them**__, the term stupid refers to lacking no prior knowledge from the most important to the most trivial thing that can be found in a book. The term also means general lack of common sense, direction, and taste buds. It also strongly refers to not knowing what a 'cold' is. It meant 'you're just damned lucky', in some occasions. It meant irresponsible. And it even meant being overly happy. At times it refers to 'burgers'. But most times, 'Stupid' meant me. _

_If that's their definition, then I am far from it. While Arthur was away, which was almost like always, I read all the books his large library had to offer. I started out with reading fairy tales but as time went on I became more focused on Math, the Sciences, History, and the Arts. I started learning about other cultures and I always hoped that one day I could see how beautiful the world was. Behind his back, I'd actually read French books or any other book that seemed more interesting than his myriad of magic books._

_I learned how to cook when he was away. I learned to fend for myself and for my people. I learned to accept others that were not my own. I learned to fight. I learned what freedom was. I learned to fight for freedom. I learned to respect other's freedom. The British Empire made me 'civilized' but I made myself the powerhouse I am now. My bosses made my land threatening as a power yet welcoming to those who needed shelter. But no matter what, they'll still use and hate me._

_If stupid meant keeping things positive and being dragged into every significant and insignificant quarrel; if it meant horribly misjudged; if it meant acting out the role of their perfect idiot, their 'beloved' scapegoat or if it meant being scared to know that they wouldn't be able to accept who you really are…then that would be me._

_I wasn't always like this. I didn't have to act stupid, although I really was afraid that the world wouldn't like me. Maybe I was too low class for them…too young, too naïve, maybe?_

_My first meeting was a memory I cherished. Bright smiles were plastered on their faces and laughs were thrown when I fumbled my own name. They kept opening doors for me, I was happy to feel acceptance. _

_I worked even harder, maybe to impress them. Call me pathetic, I even went the extra mile and learned their languages, cultures, hell I even forced myself to cook their way. _

_But at the end…they were just using me. I was nothing but a pawn in their game. Their subtle games._

_For whatever reason…__**they**__ did what __**they**__ did. I'm not mad, but since then I saw no point in making any of them my real friends. Everything is just for economy, trade, and whatever. I'd rather keep the real me outside __**their**__ circle, I don't want the real pain to settle in._

_I write this as Alfred F. Jones, not the United States of America. I write this as a person, not some sort of trophy. I write this to whoever reads it…don't worry._

_I'll keep my mask on until the day Death calls me to his humble abode…_

**-Alfred F. Jones.**

Canada was choking in his tears. His eyes kept shifting between the bloody note and his equally bloody brother. Being the ever-caring brother, he wrapped his American twin's bloody wrists and chest; he cleaned up his bruised cheeks, and added splints to his once brilliant golden-brown wings. He knew deep in his heart that he was right, he knew his brother better than anybody. But he didn't understand why he had to do this…again.

He was just glad that he was there in time to save him, again.

He sat on the side of the bed; he wrapped his arms around his sleeping brother as tears streamed down.

"They're gonna pay" snarled Matthew with his eyes gleaming red. Black tribal marking started snaking their way to his hands and the sides of his face. Rage was one thing he avoided but not keeping their promise to their dead mother was something he would never take lightly.

Like a bear…fuck my family…I'd kill you.

"Don't." he heard a weak voice. He felt a callous hand rub his broad back. He felt the broken wings flap as hard as they could. He pulled away and stared at his brother's now amber eyes.

The Canadian knew that if he didn't listen to his brother, he'd be suffering a whole month of tornadoes and thunderstorms. But he couldn't…this has been going on for far too long.

"Don't."

"B-bu-"

"Don't." Alfred was serious. He didn't want his brother to risk his life for him. All he needed was some time to recover…that's all he needed, at least that's what he kept telling himself.

He rubbed his brother's back; he knew Canada wouldn't be able to handle the pressure his power exerted on him. He'd rather suffer than let his brother…er…suffer.

America felt his world getting fuzzy and his eyes getting heavy. His hands relaxed as his mind drifted to peaceful sleep.

Canada smiled through the tears, trying to be strong for his younger twin.

"Why do you have to be the hero, you hoser?" the Canadian ruffled the honey blonde hair of the snoring American.

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_**I hope you liked it! *SIGH* you must be wondering why the hell does Alfred have wings...for me, it represents their native mythology and folklore. They're big parts in what makes a country. So it's justifiable that all countries would have some passive or active forms of power and magic. His an eagle if you haven't figured it out.**_

_**I've already made some notes for some of the other Hetalia characters as well...so let me know if you want to know they're powers and stuff! XD...I think you'll be scared if I told what Hungary's power is in my mind! XD**_


	15. The World according to Russia

_**HIYA! I am shocked that only the followers had read Chapter 13 (to my watchers-DaIvanbraginski,lovesunberry,ludwigmylove ,steampunk-crow=Thanks a million!)**_

_**Hehehe, chapter 14 is fairing a lot better, maybe I should just post one at a time seeing that most people just read the latest chapter XD!**_

_**Anyway, This is a Russia POV that I kinda liked putting together...XD! I like it when Russia's funny and stuff... sorry if he seems OOC.**_

* * *

The world according to Russia:

_**Russia's scary**_

_**Russia's a sadist**_

_**Russia has superiority complex**_

_**Russia's a monster**_

_**RUSSIA! RUSSIA! RUSSIA!**_

I smile for a reason…why can't they see that? -_-

All this nonsense started during the Cold War of course. What else could set off my fellow nations to see me that way?

Why couldn't my life be as simple as it was in WWII? When Fredka's bosses and my bosses were friendlier?

It all went down when we became the leaders of the UN.

_"I'm really sorry, dude!" America scratched the back of his head, smiling apologetically at me._

_"I'm fine, comrade!" I smiled back; it wasn't his fault that he knocked my drink over._

_"NO! Why are you saying sorry to him, Alfred? His glass was definitely in the way of your arm reach!" Shouted Fredka's boss._

_"Well…you shouldn't have been so clumsy, stupid American!" my boss somehow got into the argument._

_I saw Alfred tense…hopefully he wasn't hurt by what my boss said._

_"BURGERS!" he shouted with his mouth wide in a smile. He was getting nervous…_

_"P-please, could we not fight, Da?"_

_"NO!"_

_"NYET!"_

That's how I became the bad guy.

Today is just one of those same old, same old meetings. I sat beside China since my boss forced me too. I was seated hell away from Alfred, who's actually a very good friend of mine and his sweet Canadian brother.

**_*Sigh*_** Matvey! How would it feel if we skipped through meadows of sunflowers and kiss each other in hot… wild… animalistic … carnal… sloppy… then se-

"Hey…Russia, why don't you stop them from fighting, sí?" the tanned Spaniard touched my shoulders making me jump unnoticeably. He was talking about France, England, and America fighting over some trivial thing, like the family they are. I kept my heart rate down and gave him a small smile.

"No. I like it when they're fighting" Spain immediately walked away and started to gossip about how much of a sadist I was.

FACE PALM.

First off, I'm the person who believes in honesty. If you have to say something…say it! You won't get anywhere if you keep on hiding how you really feel. Let them release their anger; it'll make them feel better afterwards. They're family, for Vodka's sake, fighting is completely normal.

Plus, I'd intervene if someone actually pulls out a gun. But for the meantime, they're just pulling on whatever they think'll hurt the other most.

"I really like mister America!" Peeped my small Latvia. I see no reason why he shouldn't like him. Alfred's a really smart kid once you make him trust you, which is pretty hard…unexpectedly. You'd think it'll just take candy or burgers.

"Why don't you go and talk to him?" I whispered quietly. I turned around to look at him but his face looked totally scared and he ran towards Lithuania and Estonia.

What did I do? All I had was my happy aura…

FACE PALM.

_My auras look too similar from each other._

**_Scary=Bluish-magenta_**

**_Scared=Bluish-Magenta._**

**_Happy=Bluish-Magenta_**

"Did you hear that? Russia threatened to stretch poor Latvia into toffee!" gossiped Spain…SPAIN!

See how the world sees me? Well at least, they can't really touch me…my boss would be furious. I remember giving him a cute scarf for his birthday and he sulked and said that it didn't make him look intimidating enough.

_"WHY WOULD YOU WANT AN INTIMIDATING LOOKING SCARF, ANYWAY!?"_

_"To be as scary as you"_

**_*Background of comical gloom*_**

I'm not scary. I have a very warm culture…once the rebellion simmers down. PROPAGANDAS.

You know, it's quite fun to join them sometimes, you really feel the adrenalin rush. I see why Francis likes them so much. It's like a break from being a boss's pet and really feel what your people really need and want. It makes me feel free.

Although, I don't appreciate women going totally topless in the cold snow. It's not that it doesn't call for me (Almost all countries are bisexual)…it's just…

Won't there milk shakes turn into…Frozen milk slush? What a waste of perfectly good boobies. But at least they feel liberated and free…I guess.

"You do think my joke is funny, right mon ami?" France interrupted my train of thought. God, I wasn't listening. What should I do? Sarcasm. That's funny.

"No~ It was so~ not funny!" I smiled smugly. I really felt like a good friend...

"Y-you don't it's funny?" he stared at me in hurt. I could feel my palms sweat.

"Nyet…That's not what I-"

"Mon ami! You have hurt me…now I must go and shed my beautiful tears somewhere else" he flailed his hands dramatically as he tossed black rose petals while doing pirouettes and leaps heading towards the exit.

The door slammed tight.

**_~AWKWARD SIlENCE~_**

"You Russian, you made him cry!" Shouted England as he ran out following his boyfriend.

The next two hours were filled with silent boos and gossips…that were downright outlandish.

I just kept my big smile on, trying to remember that everything they said about me was wrong.

**_~A BIT LATER~_**

I had my head on the table as I asked for another mug of Vodka. I felt Alfred's hands stop me.

"Dude, you have got to stop drinking at this rate, you might start being alcoholic**_…*sigh*…_**again" America took a sip of his soda as he remembered the two straight months when he had to pick me up in wherever I was. What a good friend.

"NYET! I WANTS MORE!" I shouted.

"Ostanovit' yego , Ivan Braginskiy!" he said to me sternly…I couldn't fight back my own tongue.

"Nobody understands me…" I pouted with my face slammed down the counter.

"Dude, that's their loss. They were being so stupid anyway…you were clearly being sarcastic!" the American smiled apologetically.

"H-how do you know?"

"Oh, I read it on-line in a 'How to understand Sarcasm in different accents!' article" he smiled.

"You have that?" I looked at him.

"No! Dude, I just know you well enough. Have you tried, I don't know…advertising tourism there? I mean if they get to know you're people…maybe they'll be a bit softer!" My mind started to feel a lot more sober.

"That would be so great…if there weren't crazy women going topless from time to time!" I remembered the propagandas again.

"DUDE! YOU SHOULD TOTALLY ADVERTISE THAT! ANYBODY WHO LIKES TO SEE RUSSIAN DOULDE Ds, RAISE YOUR HANDS! " my American friend exclaimed gaining a sea of raised hands in the bar. I could really feel gloom setting in…he means well and all but…

"…or maybe, try explaining to them your action?" peeped a shy voice. I looked and saw the hot Canadian with a small smile on his face.

"or that!" Alfred agreed, scratching the back of his head.

"D-da! I WILL! I WILL!" I immediately got up and started to run drunkenly out of the bar! He was right! Yes…I just have to explain!

I saw Latvia and explained to him everything about the nature of my aura and reiterated that it's okay to be friends with America…but…

"Mr. Russia's drunk! I'm scared!" He run away and just like before Spain seems to be gossiping again.

Why can't they understand me? -_-

* * *

_**Aw...poor Russia XD! I really do feel that Russia is actually a nice and beautiful country, every country has something beautiful in them and plus I really don't think Russians are scary! XD**_

_**Please Comment and criticize! XD... I DO NOT OWN HETALIA! :C**_


	16. Locked inside him

**_AUTHOR's Note:_**

**_HIYA! So I might be a little busy starting now! I have exams next week and my hands are full for my main story's reboot thingy! Anyway...I jope you don't mind this one!_**

**_WARNING: Serious! America, Non-perverted! France, Deadly(not intentionally)! Canada_**

**_I don't own Hetalia if I did...I might've made everything about DenAme, RusCan, NorBela, the Philippines...and I don't know what!_**

**_Other Author's Note (GCJakey):_**

**_I'm the co author of almost every work my free-loading friend posted (he used my email to make his FF account...wow...) Anyway, I also liked this whole idea that countries have crappy jobs that prevent them from feeling human...most people just assume that looking them up in Wiki or in History books would let them know every aspect of their lives...just in a human version of it! I see them as having double lives per se... you know?_**

**_ENJOY PLEASE!_**

* * *

Truth be told, Britain wasn't really the best father/brother figure in the world **_(It's a very obvious fact)._** I mean I still care about him and I did cherish every single moment he'd visit. But that was just it, they were visits. He never stayed long.

Did I mention that he was so busy that he kinda forgot to deal with his **_(FORMER!)_**_ 'colony'?__**. **_

Really. I didn't know how the hell countries dealt with paperwork, I was just a kid then…maybe that's why I was getting a bit irritated.

As far as colonies go, I was considered pretty lucky, but still it just didn't feel right to wait around for him to change the way things were for the better.

Hence, I declared independence **_(classic case of teenage rebellion)_**

Alright, I am starting to ramble, sorry for that.

**Francis Bonnefoy**, not **_France_**, was actually more of a father/brother to Mattie and me than **Arthur** and **_Britain _**would be. Plus, he was kinda like our mom/sister. Whenever the Brit was away, he'd let himself and Mattie in and stay for a week or two.

He saw us as cute things _that could be molested _but he restrained himself **_(thankfully)_**, instead his parental side took over. He made us a feast every night and he read us stories and tucked us in at night and made us smile with games…until now he still pampers us the moment he gets an opportunity.

He taught us that if you know that everybody would be happy in the end, you should do it.

Never should we ask for anything in return and when the world hurts you, turn the other cheek. **_(Kinda ironic coming from a European country)_**

More importantly…he taught me to do what was needed even if the one benefiting from it in the end will get hurt in the process.

I remember that day, the day I was forced to swallow the lesson whole. I didn't have time to react back then, all I could do was wrapped my small arms around Francis's leg as I quivered in fear.

_Mattie was lying down peacefully on the snow; he was obviously deep in a dreamless sleep. _

_I could feel the tears sting my eye as I looked at my older twin. His white sleeping gown was drenched in crimson fluids. But it didn't stop there…he was lying in a large puddle of blood surrounded a blanket of cold white snow._

_To make it more disturbing, it wasn't his. _

_It was our mom's. _

_"A-alfred, s-sweetie, come closer…please." My mother's soothing yet strained voice called for me. She couldn't move her tanned body. All she could do was gesture me to come closer. I hesitated; I couldn't look into her deep brown eyes or touch her raven hair. I felt France nudge me, urging me to be a good boy and listen to my mother._

_"Y-yes, mom?" I felt my knees instantly freeze as I stepped on the mix of blood and snow around my dying mother._

_"I need you to watch out when __**it**__ takes over, okay?" she paused as she rubbed my red cheeks. "y-you have to read the signs…and stop__** it**__ from taking over him again." Before I could ask how, she already gave me the answer._

_"Do the things that irritate him…don't notice him, hit him…be insensitive. DO NOT TREAT HIM LIKE HE'S YOUR BROTHER." I shook my head; I could never do that to him. Why would I do that if we shared the same womb for months…then the same bed for years…even if we don't live together anymore…he was still my brother._

_"It's the only way to see if the seal's growing weak, ALFRED…" she raised her voice only to be halted by her bloody coughs. "please…do it for me." She pulled me in for a small peck on the forehead, I just nodded. She looked up at our French guardian and smiled._

_"Take care of my sons, Francis" France nodded and proceeded to pick up my sleeping brother. She gave me one last kiss._

_"Goodbye."_

_I started crying on my mother's dead body as the snow storm picked up. The cold didn't matter as much as the pain, to think that a small child should handle this much._

_"Alfred…it's time to go home." I felt a warm hand that urged me to go back to the nice, warm house that was dimly lit with a few candles._

_"NO!" I screamed, I wasn't going to leave my mom. I felt the man go down on his knees and hug me._

_"She was a very special woman…but she's not here anymore" France pointed out that I was holding on to nothing anymore, her body disappeared. I cried even more as I clawed the French's arm with my tight grip._

_"We promised her to protect Mattie from it…and that means…"_

_"NO!"_

_"But…"_

_"NO! I WILL NOT DO THAT TO HIM!" I shouted but quieted down when I felt a single tear drop from above._

_"I don't want to do that to him either…but if it means that he'll be alive and well...I will. I know that he will not see our point, but would you let him die?" Francis huddled me in closer as he let out his own pain._

That's a day that didn't have anything to do with my country's history; it's one of those times that reminded us **_(countries)_** that we are still human. Not every moment in our lives demanded us to live as the personifications of every single bordered land mass in the world; we could live out snippets of our lives just as regular people…no historians attached. But it does come with its own problems; sometimes more scarring than our pointless conferences, wars, and disputes.

But it makes us feel human.

Apologies for my rambling…

Today, you must know that I could never do that to my brother…I was never the one to listen to my mom either.

I tried my hardest for the first couple centuries, but in the end I couldn't keep it up…I just couldn't.

France understood me and instead took it upon himself to at least make my brother feel forgotten even for just a split second. Even if he tried his best not to cry, he would at times **_(he was afraid that noticing him would disturb the seal, but not noticing him would take a toll on his sanity)…_**that's why he begged the whole world to be a part of this, even if they didn't know why.

Thankfully, those red eyes of his and needle teeth are still locked away. But one of this days, it will come out and I hope I am prepared to lock it back in before anything could happen.

It's not fair that**_ it_** took over him…it's just not. But someday I know that we'd be able to heal him…to finally put an end to this **_'prank'_** we asked the whole world to be a part of.

I'll do anything for my brother…I hope he sees that. I hope even I could see the good in all this.

What's good about all this when you hurt the only **_(real)_** family you have left?

* * *

_**Suggest. Comment. Fave. Follow. LOLZ**_


	17. Frozen Inferno

_**Author's Note:**_

_**YUP! JUST WANTED TO POST OUR TAKE ON THE COLD WAR. Alright not really accurate, but i'm a firm believer that Countries are still people that can make up their own minds and opinions that don't necessarily agree to what they're supposed to stand for.**_

_**GCJakey's Note:**_

_**Yeah, I liked that too. Anyway, we want to add Prussia to the mix as well and we'll be using him in some fics...until we reveal our OTP involving him! Then we're gonna edit the titlr to PRU***! XD**_

_**We don't own Hetalia or else you wouldn't be learning anything and about 90% would be DenAme fluffy crap!**_

* * *

Frozen Inferno

Everybody knew what happened during the cold war, every damned meeting just ended up with Russia and America threatening each other to no end. It would have looked like two overgrown children fighting over a piece of candy, if not because the two children were horrifying powerhouses fighting over the gumball called the world.

They squabble because their bosses said so, at first it was just an act to make them happy. The real confrontations were between their bosses.

Ivan and Alfred's were still friends…and they tried their best to not let this petty thing in their way. However, it became harder and harder.

_"Take that damned psychotic, demonic, commie whore down!"_

_"I want you to destroy that stupid capitalist swine!"_

Their bosses' _pleas_ were getting harder and harder to forget, until they just lost it. They got sucked in the dark hole and they started to believe the influential words of their bosses and people.

They didn't care if the two were the best of friends outside the conference room; at the end of the day all that mattered to them was the loyalty of their semi-immortal puppets.

So to put it simple, they were no longer friends.

Canada was sandwiched between. He became paranoid with the idea of two best friends killing each other for the sake of supremacy. It wasn't the Cold War he wanted to stop **_(well maybe a little bit)_** but the quarrel between the two former friends. If Canada couldn't do it then Mattie can. If he couldn't do it…well at least he had a plan B.

"Let the awesome Prussia handle everything!" shouted the ex-nation. He and Mattie have been planning this for a few weeks now. After a few months of depression from losing his title as a country, he has adjusted to life as Russia's housemate.

It wasn't so bad…he got free food and it was actually fun playing around the unexpectedly soft Russian. He also enjoyed teasing Ivan on his secret crush on a certain-maple lover and capitalizing on his Belarusian-centered fears. After a few more years, you could even say that they're the best of friends. And since America was his friend's brother, he was kinda his friend by proxy.

**_~*CANADA'S HOUSE*~_**

America's eyes were a lot different now; they were electric blue and angled sharply. He got his glass of cola and emptied its contacts to the Russian's pale face. Canada and Prussia suddenly felt the need to stop moving and talking.

"Why did you do that?" Russia asked calmly giving him his sweet innocent smile that everybody feared, sadly, there was one who wasn't afraid of it.

"You look damn better as a pathetic wet dog you are!" Alfred smirked moving his face rather too close to the giant nose of Ivan.

"You look better beaten to a pulp, Da?" The room got cold as Russia picked the younger America by the neck. His smile was still creepy and his aura got darker.

"W-what happened to us? Tell me." Alfred's voice broke with his eyes quivering. Russia felt his soul melt as well.

"What did Catherine see in me? Why the hell did you help against Britain? What the fuck did you see in a damned rat like me?" America pulled Russia closer by his scarf and his other hand was squeezing on Ivan's thick arms, crushing the bone under the layers of muscle.

"She saw what was happening to Britain. She saw the wrongs his king had committed. I saw a nation that had so much potential. I saw a friend. But I was wrong as fuck to think that you'd be smart enough to not mess with me." Russia opened his cold amethyst eyes that made the two spectators move back.

"So…I'm a threat? Good thing this bro-thing's over, eh…Vany?" America chuckled and knee-kicked his hard gut, making Russia release the blonde.

"Right…Fredka!" Ivan laughed darkly, giving his opponent the chance to pin him to the room's corner. America yanked the wooly scarf and got his trusty knife out. He placed it under the Russian's thick yet sensitive neck.

"I thought, you couldn't stop laughing one you had your scarf off?" America glared putting the knife a bit closer to his exposed neck.

"Even I don't know why…" Russia got out his own knife, ready to stab the American's broad back. "Fredka."

Alfred laughed slowly and unbuttoned Russia's heavy trench coat, revealing the large, bulky body underneath.

"Let's see how many scars I can add here." The silvery knife went down to the hard mound of Ivan's chest threatening to pierce through his heart.

Russia ripped off half of Alfred's shirt, revealing his lightly tanned and painfully defined body. The warmth could've melted the Communist's palm. He brought strong legs around the seductively slim and taut waist of the tanner man.

"I'd gladly make your favorite bacon from you, capitalist swine." The knife threatened to push down Alfred's nape.

"Why don't we just end the whole world already? We have the nukes…don't we?" America smirked.

"Da." They're noses were about to touch.

"W-why don't you stop them?" asked Gilbert nervously. Canada smacked him hard on the head.

"I don't want to get more involved than I already am!" The light blonde crossed his arms. The two by-standers started exchanging heated glares when all of a sudden they heard a duet of loud happy laughter.

"_'Nuke the world'?..._I didn't know you were that desperate, Fredka!" Ivan kept on rolling to and fro on the carpeted floor.

"How 'bout you…Bacon's the best crap you can throw at me?" Alfred laughed kicking his feet repeatedly while on his back.

"Prus-man's right! Improvise is a lot better than Matvey's script!" Russia got up and patted his friend's tanner back.

"Sorry, Mattie. So, how was our performance?" Alfred started picking up the remains of his cotton shirt. Prussia can't help but stare at the body he trained. But his thought was ruined by a frantic Canadian.

"Dark. Emotional. Too Sexy…it just got weird in the end. I mean, I don't see why my script was bad." Canada turned his back to get some beer from the fridge.

"You wrote _'Communism's bad' _and _'Capitalism is stupid'_, if you thought about it…it sounds pretty un-awesome!" Prussia immediately grabbed the can of beer and drank it all in one go.

"Well….I was…I was…" Canada became quiet not even sure why he wrote something stupid like that.

"I think it was great, lay of him…Gilly!"America teased with a big smirk.

"Da, me too!" Russia smiled almost holding Canada's hands if he wasn't so scared.

"Ja. Ja. So…you think you can pull this off?" a ruby red eye flashed towards the direction of the three.

"Hell yeah, we are!" the two superpowers said in unison as they did their awesome handshake.

Fist bump. Slide. Chest bump. Turn around. Tutting. America doing a somersault. Russia doing a sweeper kick. Cossack dance. High five. Stand up. High five again.

"AWESOME!" they yelled out. Their sapphire and amethyst eyes smirked at Canada's, making him sigh in exasperation.

"Fine." Canada joined in the secret hand shake.

"AWESOME!"

"yeah…awesome." Canada smiled softly.

"KESESESESE! I want to learn that!" the albino cut in.

"SURE."

Canada sighed again but smiled at the optimism the two had…maybe it was true that friendship was a lot stronger than war.

* * *

_**They were acting? What the hell! XD...Comment. Subscribe. Favorite. Suggest. LOLZ**_


	18. Can I have This Dance?

**_Author's Note:_**

**_Hiya! Sorry for the late post...'tried really hard t'make some new chapters for 'Unrequited'...but Youtube doesn't want me too! LOL...I really need to find the right balance between my awesome FanFic life and freaking holding up my honor spot in class._**

**_Anyway, WARNING: Ripped! Norway, Calmer! Belarus, France! France, France-ish! England... BROMANCE! DenAme_**

**_Hetalia: not mine, but how I wish it were!_**

**_GCJakey'sNote:_**

**_Even I'm stuck on time with our main story, I've seen my exams and I'm trying to find a way to curb my mom's yells later on. Damn it, i was so careless with the math problems! And I love MAth for pete's sakes. _**

**_Back to the fic. This is a song fic written by me and I am hoping to right more songfics...suggest the songs and pairings and maybe I'll just wait for the story to materialize._**

**_I hope I'll be able to write more soon...My computer life's in jeopardy because of my stupid mistake._**

**_*PLEASE SUPPORT DENAME!_**

**_*I have a story planned for them ._**

* * *

Can I have this dance?

"Alright…I guess that was technically still connected to our _'classics-meets-modern'_ theme." America smiled at Greece and Japan, who did a weird Greek oracle summoning dance with Super Sentai costumes.

"Let's give them a round of applause, dudes." America clapped his hands, signaling the other participants in the dance studio to clap slowly.

America definitely looked different today, much like everyone else. He wore a dull olive green tank top that hugged on his muscular frame snugly and emphasized his huge arms, grey sweat pants that passed his bare feet, a right leather glove, and a very loose knit cap that covered just a small portion of his head. His hair was matted down due to the head piece. He actually looked older in a good way. His strong neck showcased two necklaces. One was a silver cross and the other was an old braided-thread one with an eagle feather dangling from it.

Everybody else looked relaxed too **_(excluding Greece and Japan)_**. They all wore the typical clothes for dancing.

Loose shirts, tights, and sweats.

"Alright, so next are Mattie, Vany, Prus-man, and Spain." America smiled as the team of four took their positions.

They started off immediately with strong dubstep choreo before going on to graceful contemporary.

America enjoyed it…but he was just a bit sad. Denmark was supposed to help him judge this thing but he had to cancel at the last minute. He said that he had to teach a seminar on extremely advanced parkour today and a tumbling class afterwards. A lot would've thought of it as a lie, being his best friend and all, Al knew he was serious.

Just look at him, most of the nations never saw him as the serious dancing type and here he was, appointed to critic.

America sighed quietly.

On the other side of the room, two platinum blondes were nervous.

The smaller girl stretched her right leg over her head. She wore a navy blue sports bra and short biking shorts. Her midsection was pale and toned, she was definitely a dancer. Modern, classic, whatever it was she could do it, especially with her extensive ballet background.

The taller man was told to wear black slacks and a cream dress shirt, which was opened all the way. His skin also pale and unexpectedly toned, since most of the clothes he wore never highlighted his physique. He was definitely more into contemporary and ballroom. He was actually more nervous as he did a standing pike. The choreo wasn't all waltz, it had pop n' lock…and every second demanded him to be in close to his best friend, Natalia.

"Don't be nervous, Lu. We are damned better than they are." Bragged the Belarusian as she tied her moonstone hair. She knelt down and stretched her back in a cat stretch.

Deep down, something changed in her...she doesn't know what. Of course she knew her best friend had a crush on her. The Danish loud-mouth made it very obvious when he called her to go out on a date with Lu. If it was anybody else, she would've declined…but why was the Norwegian representative different?

"Awesome. Let's give to the…what did you call yourselves again?" America scratched the back of his head apologetically.

"We're the Vodka-Maple-Wurst-Tomato group!" the four saluted in military precision.

"Okay…"America trailed off "Your dubstep version of the nut cracker was awesome, although the tutting part was a bit off." commented Alfred, which made the three smack Prussia on the head.

"We're next my sweet, sexy Amerique!" France waltzed in with a creepy corset and latex boots, followed by England wearing a driver cap and latex shorts.

"God, don't tell me…" America covered his eyes and tensed, heck everybody in the room tensed.

"Now that's disgusting…" commented Natalya as she stood up from a back bridge.

"Extremely." Added Norway as he fixed the collar of his opened shirt.

"Nat, I'm not sur-"

"Nope, I am not hearing another negative word from your mouth." Belarus locked her deep dark blue eyes with his compelling nebula windows.

Norway was definitely uncomfortable with his face painted with the palest of pink.

"I think my eyes just got burned." America smiled frantically with his eye sockets noticeably on fire. "Anyway you're disqualified for not even giving an effort to the theme." America pulled off Texas and rubbed his eyes.

"What? You can't do that you bloody git!" England growled furiously.

"All you did was hairography… you weren't dancing. Pole dancing is just a supplement, you showed no choreography. It's a stunt, if all you did was dancing and spinning on a pole, you would've caught a lot of people's attention…but not the critiv." Alfred knew what he was talking about, that's why he was the judge.

"It's okay Mon Cher; we'll do better next time!" Francis, now in lacy black lingerie, patted his lover's back.

The judge groaned one last time before forcing a smile, it was finally going to be over. "Alright…last but not the least. Lu, Nat, you two're next!"

The two tensed and looked at each other giving small awkward smiles before gracefully walking away from each other. They were on the opposite corners of the room.

**_ (Can I have this dance _**_from __**High School Musical 3)**_

The music began and they run towards the other.

Belarus did a cartwheel with Norway holding her on her curvy hips.

They popped and locked into graceful arabesque positions with every snap of the music.

Lukas knelt down while Nat performed a standing split with her right hand extended to meet Lukas's.

**_Take my hand, take a breath_**

**_Pull me close and take one step_**

The man pulled her in making her leave the previous position. He clutched her near his body with her back facing him. They swayed rhythmically, before starting to sweep their feet backwards to form semi circles.

He spun her around. Now they were facing each other, his one hand holding her hand while the other was placed on her waist.

**_Keep your eyes locked on mine,_**

**_And let the music be your guide._**

She brought her finger to his chin, guiding him to her eyes.

They did the basic waltz, wanting to give the audience a small relaxed moment.

**_Won't you promise me (now won't you promise me, that you'll never forget)_**

They foxtrotted across the room with their eyes seemingly glued on the other's.

**_We'll keep dancing (to keep dancing) wherever we go next_**

Their feet fluttered on an imaginary tight rope.

Natalia kicked her feet high that was held by Lukas before lifting her on his shoulder.

She wrapped her leg on his broad shoulder while her free leg stretched away from her body and hands stretched out elegantly.

**_It's like catching lightning the chances of finding someone like you_**

**_It's one in a million, the chances of feeling the way we do_**

He continued doing the fox trot while his partner was still on his shoulders.

She tapped his shoulder signaling her descent.

**_And with every step together, we just keep on getting better_**

**_So can I have this dance (can I have this dance)_**

Once on the floor, the duo started to stride exaggeratingly on their tip toes with Lukas on the lead. The girl then pushed her arms back, arched her seductive back, and slowly raised her leg threatening to fall. The man catches her and resumes the waltz position.

With Natalia forwarding, they do a typical waltz on their tip-toes spinning every so often.

**_Can I have this dance?_**

She propped her leg to her partner's side. Her arms wrapped on the back of his neck and her beautiful bosom was pressed against his. They both leaned to the direction Belarus was facing.

With the cue she pushed herself off almost half-heartedly, turning around pushing her limbs back forming a graceful arc with her back…she was hiding the blush she had on.

**_ Take my hand, I'll take the lead_**

**_And every turn will be safe with me_**

Lukas tapped her shoulder and gave a shy smile. She was swept off her feet by the strong yet warm hand placed under her nape. She was pushed up, spinning like a top on the sides. She fell back on the nape and repeated the process this time higher.

Now she was suddenly feeling scared of falling.

**_Don't be afraid, afraid to fall_**

**_You know I'll catch you through it all_**

She cringed her closed eyes as she tensed her body. Suddenly she felt that warm hand again. She opened her eyes looking for the first time at her best friend's eyes in a new way.

Her left leg was extended and raised with his other hand, while her free leg was bent, creating a number four.

Lukas lowered her feet, making her assume a typical ballerina position. He was on his knees as he clung to her flexed waist.

**_And you can't keep us apart (even a thousand miles, can't keep us apart)_**

She touched the ground in a very flat standing pike giving the Norwegian the opening to kick his feet up and do a flip passing her pony-tailed head.

The audience let out a gasp.

Nat stood as well as Lu. Now they were side by side.

**_'Cause my heart is (cause my heart is) wherever you are_**

They slid across the floor on their knees before doing a front walk-over at the same time in perfect precision.

**_It's like catching lightning the chances of finding someone like you_**

**_It's one in a million, the chances of feeling the way we do_**

They moved like butterflies in a garden. They run after each other when suddenly Norway did a perfect aerial cartwheel followed by a somersault. Natalia stopped and shrug her shoulders.

This time she grabbed his hands and led him to her route. She pirouetted in an incredible duration of time before leaping into a butterfly twist.

**_And with every step together, we just keep on getting better_**

**_So can I have this dance (can I have this dance)_**

They were daintily moving on their tip-toes in a slow manner, with funny mocking faces. Before letting their whole feet touch the ground.

She did an over head circle kick which was evaded by the man.

**_Can I have this dance_**

Norway moved closer to her face and rubbed her cold cheek, giving it the warmth he seldom possessed.

**_Oh no mountains too high enough, oceans too wide_**

**_'Cause together or not, our dance won't stop_**

They leapt to spin once in mid-air. Again, they prepared for a second leap, this time spinning twice.

He held her hand and waist twirling her to meet his bare torso that was already building up sweat.

He wanted to look away in embarrassment, she didn't want him. But he was content that she was with him now.

**_Let it rain, let it pour_**

**_What we have is worth fighting for_**

Natalia got more confused with her sudden emotions as they did a barrel turn. Just as they stood up they fell again and rolled to stand up on the other side.

They slowed down with their feet playfully intertwined with each other. They pressed their hands together; while the girl's other one grabbed him by the nape.

**_You know I believe, that we were meant to be_**

They pushed each other away and Belarus assumed her kneeling position, while Norway pirouetted through the high note, his cream shirt flapping with the rapid turns.

**_It's like catching lightning the chances of finding someone like you (like you)_**

**_It's one in a million, the chances of feeling the way we do (way we do)_**

The man grabbed her by the forearm and pulled her up to his body. She instinctively wrapped her legs on his waist as he wrapped her in his arms.

They continued waltzing and waltzing like nothing else mattered anymore. The Belarusian arched her back as if finally happy she foundd what she was looking for.

She stepped off the Norwegian and resumed foxtrotting with their paces elegant like foxes themselves.

**_And with every step together, we just keep on getting better_**

**_So can I have this dance (can I have this dance)_**

With every turn, she was lifted up effortlessly.

Once all was done, they went back to their original position.

A kneeling man asking a statuesque ballerina to dance.

**_Can I have this dance_**

She brought down her raised foot and carefully took a step forward.

**_Can I have this dance_**

He walked towards her with temerity he never head. He ran his fingers through her hair, removing the scrunchie off it.

**_Can I have this dance_**

Natalia swept Lukas off his feet and gave him a deep kiss.

"AWESOME!" the younger nation yelled on top of his lungs. "Now that is a classic. Contemporary's such a palatable style. Dudes, you win…you win. MY AWESOME HANDS ARE DOWN!" America smiled and waved his hands down.

"Uh…dudes?" America wondered why they weren't responding and he was answered by the sight of the two of them kissing. It was funny; Norway wrapped his arms around Bela's neck…kinda like a girl would.

Alfred smiled and rubbed his glasses that were fogging.

"N-nat…" Lukas pulled away. "Would you like to go out some time again?" The man had a quivering scowl, not even minding he was still in the shorter girl's arms.

"I-I would." Belarus answered shyly.

**_~*TIME SKIP*~_**

America was left behind; of course he was…he had to lock up the studio. He truly thought out of all the group's the two were the most deserving, every step was aesthetically pleasing at the same time it was deep in emotion.

He placed on his sneakers and tied the shoelaces. He stood up with a small hop and looked around to see if he had forgotten anything. Nothing seemed to be so he got his duffle bag but he stop suddenly.

He still had a small frown on him. _WHY COULDN'T HE COME? DAMN IT!_

"Dude, sorry I'm lat-Oh, I missed everything, didn't I?" America's head perked up as he heard the voice he missed a lot. He turned his head around, not trying to conceal his excitement.

The taller Dane was leaning on the doorway. He wore a deep red sleeveless t. His muscled body was a tad bit bigger than America. His muscular pale arms were covered by black fingerless arm sleeves. He had black sweatpants on too. He was still a bit sweaty; he must've really wanted to attend.

_WALKING WET DREAM!_

"Den-dude! How was the seminar?" America walked towards his best friend/crush.

"AWESOME! How was the contest? I'm really sorry I couldn't make it." Denmark scratched the back of his head, giving America a view to his under arm.

Slightly sweaty. Decorated by a bush of light blonde, but it wasn't a freaking forest. It looked clean.

America was lost in thought for a few seconds. _Pits are lickable and not very hairy…LIGHT BLONDE AWESOMENESS!_

_"_NorBela won. Dude, they were amazing…plus they kissed in the end. EPIC." America sing-songed as he got his grey jacket and wrapped it around his tightening sweats.

"Did he now?" The Dane gave out a devilish smirk with his arms crossed. His eyes were always very enticing to America and he just had to look away, if he didn't he didn't know what he could've done.

America looked down and the floor and saw blood. He coked his head and squinted his eyes, before noticing the source.

Matthias's feet had some ankle braces on. **_(You know it acted like a glove for the feet)_** and it was bleeding.

"DUDE! You're bleeding!" America practically yelped and pointed down. The Dane cocked his head and stared at it, completely not worried.

"'Must've forgotten to wear some shoes when I ran all my way here!" Denmark laughed loudly before getting his arm tugged by the younger man who made him seat with his ass on the floor.

"Not funny, dude." America stared at him seriously. He carefully took off the black ankle braces, revealing the freshly damaged feet.

"'Not a good idea to just walk around in Copenhagen wearing nothing but these!" Alfred waved the bloodied equipment in front of his friend who was hiding a massive blush.

America took out from his duffle bag, a small box. From that small box came some cotton balls, a small bottle of alcohol, and bandages. Before the older man could protest, he was already placing alcohol-wetted balls onto the injuries.

"For hvelde!" shouted the Viking in his mother tongue.

"Don't be a pussy, dude." America laughed at the old embarrassed nation.

At this point in their friendship, they were already close enough to just barge in each other's houses when they felt like it, sleep there for a couple of days, and get whatever the fuck you want from the fridge.

"I think you're good…now could you put some shoes on?" America patted the pale feet before standing and extending his tanner hands.

"Sure, mom!" Denmark snickered as he got up, holding his…_unofficial boyfriend's_ hand.

"Any good movies ya wanna watch t'night?" asked the lighter blonde as he got his shoes on. They were in Copenhagen, so Al wanted to sleepover.

"I don't know…wanna watch your _'Little Mermaid' _again?" teased the younger nation.

"S-shut up." Denmark tensed. "It came from, you dude…so y-you're practically the one who need to be blamed." He shouted incoherently.

_Blamed for what?_

"Whatever movie's good for you is good for me. What do you want me to cook tonight?" America asked trying to swing his arm over the broader and taller shoulder.

"Dude, do whatever you want with the food I have in the fridge. S'not like anyone comes to eat with me." Denmark looked away shyly.

"Well, I'm with you tonight, 'kay Dude?" America flashed his Hollywood smile

"Sure." answered Denmark as they walked away.

The night's still young for BROMANCE!


	19. No To Catnip!

_**Author's Note:**_

_**So, I haven't been posting lately. first I got a bit lazy...second 'unrequited' has been a bit slower than expected! XD...I promise that I will never abandon it! It's like my contribution to the DenAme community! LOL**_

_**Anyway, this is another 'weird power' thing, where countries show just a bit of what they're capable of in terms of magical power of sorts! XD!**_

_**Thanks to my watchers, favoriters, commenters, and readers! I LOVE YOU! MAHAL KO KAYONG LAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAT!**_

_**GCJAKEY's Note:**_

_**I haven't been in the mood to help TK! Sorry for that, but I've been drawing a lot more often...I really want to develop more! XD!**_

_**Warning: DrugAddict!RusCat, Meow-Chirp!America, Cheshire-grin!Canada, Normal!Russia**_

_**P.s. We do not Hetalia. We're just there for the awesomeness and the history stuff and maybe the cute characters ;)**_

* * *

No to Catnip

"You look so cute, Vlad!" the excitable American petted his friend's peculiar-looking cat which caused it to purr and instinctively lean towards the firm hand.

"Al, are you sure you're okay staying here? Ivan and I still need to finish up on some paperwork." There was a bit of worry on his older twin's face with his hand placed on the American's toned traps.

Alfred smiled reassuringly and brushed his hand on his brother. "Bro, I have Vlad with me…you know how much I love this fur ball." The Russian cat was held in front of Canada's face.

"Alright then, I assure you that the meeting will be short, Al. I hope Vlad will not be a naughty kitty, Da?" Russia came from behind the North Americans glaring at his cat, which he knew would be up to no good again.

"You're scaring him, Vany." America said with the cat scurrying inside his shirt. The lush coat brushed against his tanned and toned abs, making America laugh loudly…before moaning due to a wet tongue coming down his treasure trail.

"See? Vlad can be so troublesome." Ivan pointed out like a daunting mother as he pulled his frisky feline out of the flustered American's shirt.

"I-I think I can handle him." America coughed into his hand, not even wanting to see the two because of the way he moaned.

"If you say so…stay safe." Canada brought his hand on one of his younger twin's cheek giving him a small smile like he always did. And America in return would always pull him in for the biggest, tightest, and longest hug in the world.

His head was resting peculiarly on the other's neck and the latter was also reciprocating a very firm hug.

Yes, they may be different. But they were that type of twins that don't mind holding hands in public and hug and whatever most might've done with their twins when they were younger.

"M'kay, Mattie." America smiled brightly before letting go of his brother.

The two nations headed out the door, leaving the youngest to the cat's naughty plot.

"I really do hope that Al can control Vlad. I love my cat, but at times he's a demon." Russia sighed, knowing all too well to the feline's tendency for hijinks.

"I'm pretty sure that my brother can handle a cat. I mean, he has a lot more in his house plus dogs." Matthew had a lot of trust in his very competent brother.

"Alright." Ivan surrendered, although still not convinced. "So, do you think our bosses would come to an understanding?" he changed the topic to help him stop worrying of his devil of a cat.

**_~*BACK IN CANADA'S HOUSE*~_**

"So, Vlad…what do you wanna do next?" America asked his furry friend as he tossed his ball of yarn.

The cat shrugged and mewed as if trying to talk. America nodded his head over and over before hitting the _'oh-shit'_ face.

"Y-you have some with you?" He asked the cat, trying to not sound as frantic as he really was.

…

"N-no I w-won't!" the young nation took a step back, trying to get away from the cat.

…

"I-I've been clean for fifty years, damn it." He shouted as he got cornered, he was so afraid that jumping over didn't seem to cross his mind.

Vlad moved closer, bringing to him a small pouch of an unknown substance. The small snap released a smell that most people wouldn't pick up. However, Alfred wasn't like most people.

He inched down towards the floor, still trying to keep the cat away, but the aroma was too strong. It smelled fresh and potent.

"J-just the way I **liked** it." America got more transfixed on the pouch. He went down on all fours, his hands slightly closed as he did. He's shoulders lagged and sagged lazily like a cat as he moved closer to the now discarded pouch. The cat moved closer to the young man's ear, whispering meows.

Alfred's eyes were now yellow, abandoning his famous shade of blue, and his pupils were slitted. The black slits slowly dilated into big black orbs. His mouth was curved much like a cat and a purr came from his throat as he cocked his head, already getting high on the scent of the grains that escaped the pouch.

His acute sense of smell didn't need to move on inch closer…but to get the full effect he had to do it.

He got a handful and came up to his knees, still growling softly like a giant cat. The sounds intensified with his heart pounding fast…what would Mattie think? He'd probably be disappointed and give him one of those looks that broke his heart. What about Francis? He'd be glued to his back for the next month. Arthur? He'd just say _'Bloody Yank' _and steer him clear of the substance.

_'W-what would__** he**__ think o-of me?' _

He would probably be just as disappointed as Mattie if not more…He'd probably beat the crap out of him until he was clean or he'd probably be more patient and help him through this…that sounded nice. Really nice.

The substance made it to his nose. His reaction was instant. He rolled to the floor and twisted and writhed like an over-excited cat. His eyes were closed shut as he savored the feeling.

Fifty years was too long.

"C-C-CATN…N-NIP!" He groaned out. His back arched beautifully as he shoved more and more.

**_~*AN HOUR LATER IN A BAR*~_**

"Cheers, Da?" Russia brought his mug of beer up. The meeting was a success, whatever it was about.

"Cheers." Canada was also happy. He didn't what would happen if their bosses started throwing knives at each other.

"I-I think you have to do it with me. Y-you know…if you want to." Ivan blushed cutely with his mug still up in the air. Sure he was intimidating at times, but he's a really big softy at heart. So soft, that even the worst actor playing as the worst character in the worst romantic movie in history…would still make him cry. Canada witnessed that first hand.

"O-Oh sorry. CHEERS." Mattie said a bit louder as he brought his beer up to Russia's.

"You really are one peculiar guy, Vany!" a soft chuckle erupted from his soft throat.

"I am, Da? Is that a good thing?" the Russian blushed again, feeling self-conscious all of the sudden.

"It really is." The Canadian reassured. "So…anything that we can talk about, besides that annoying meeting?" he asked.

"Oh yeah…Vladimir has an addiction problem." His cat really was interesting. What kind of cat had an addiction?

"To what?" the other asked, a bit bored that this was all he could muster.

"To Catnip. I know cats all have that addiction but his is a lot different. He's good at smuggling those." Russia smiled.

…

"We have to get back to my house, right now, eh?" Canada left some money on the counter before dragging his friend, who didn't finish his beer.

"w-why?"

"Al. Alfred's what!" he answered in a serious tone.

**_~*LET'S SEE HOW OUR FRIEND IS DOING*~_**

America has calmed down. He was sitting on his ass with his legs folded in towards his crotch. Both his hands were rigidly pressed on the floor. He was concentrating, he finished his third bag. He looked at the wall in dire concentration.

His white shirt was sloppy and untidy with sweat-stains everywhere and his slacks were doing nothing to hide the band of his neon-blue briefs.

"THE GROUND'S SHAKING! NYA~" he jumped away with feline grace. He laughed loudly and continued rolling on the carpeted floor, still with the catnip on full effect.

"ALFRED!" The door burst open, revealing his two friends, whom he could not recognize at the moment.

America crouched down hissing and growling at his brother. Canada was perfectly calm while Russia was in motherfucking shock.

Why was his friend acting like a cat?

"Alright, Bro. Just calm down and I'll get you some milk." The older twin crouched being very careful to not startle his younger brother. The other inched forward, trying to take a whiff of the air his brother exuded. He got curious and came even closer, still hissing softly in order to let the others know that he had his guard up and was watching them.

"Da. A-Al, you should calm down." The other tried to help, cautiously approaching the youngest of the bunch.

"Commie demon!" the high American moved back, unleashing his extra pair of wings.

…the room was only filled with the flapping of the brilliant golden-brown wings and the hisses and growls of America. A roar came from the crouched nation, a roar reminiscent to that of a lion. An angry lion.

"What the fuck is wrong with him?" Russia became frantic trying to think of something logical to make of this.

"Nothing is wrong with my brother. THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!" Mattie snapped at Ivan.

"How?" Ivan also got irritated.

"If you didn't bring that stupid cat, then he wouldn't be high and confused. Maple, he's been clean for fifty years! Now, he has to start all over again!" Canada was red in anger.

His face softened with the sight of his brother with his feet tucked near his body and eyes peeping every now and then, to see if the _'scary'_ part was over.

"Al, it's me. Come on…I'll heat up some cream for you…with honey." Canada smiled again coaxing Alfred to step out of his form. The strong hand extended to meet the identical one. The older tugged on it harshly, making the younger yelp and fall to his brother.

For a brief second, the American trashed about wanting to be free.

"NYA~" he mewed softly as he became limp. Canada was rubbing on the back of his ear. Soft and sleepy purrs came from the other's throat as one hand continuously scratched his soft ear and the other rubbed his taut back.

"C-cream." A small purr followed as America pleaded for cream.

"Alright. Just sleep for a bit, m'kay?" his firm scratches were giving him the desired effect as the other's wings became a lot limper and his eyelids became heavier.

"Not…t-tir…" His head falls forward to his older twin's shoulder, deep in sleep. The Canadian's warm gloved hands wrap around the built waist as the sleeping nation's arms fidgeted in a feline manner. His legs continuously twitched as purrs and mewls continuously escaped from the slightly parted mouth.

"Sleep tight, bro." Canada placed the younger twin on the sofa, carefully folding his wings so us to not disturb his sleep. America curled to a ball with a soft snore.

"Keep that cat away from him please?" Mattie gave a pleading look to Ivan who has been scolding the cat for the past five minutes.

"W-what is he? I mean is he a cat…bird thing?" Russia turned around surprised, as if almost getting caught for doing something. The manner caught Canada's attention and inspected the cat behind him that was shaking under his smile.

"Cougar-Eagle. To be exact. What did you do to Vlad?" he asked curiously.

"I _disciplined_ him" Russia smiled nervously. Discipline meant looking at his pure black eyes with a tinge of evil magenta that could make your worst dreams come to life and maybe even damage your brain. That's why he was good in reading people, his only competition was Spain actually, who could also read a person just by touch that was why he was so charismatic. It was because he knew how other people felt. To top it off, he could also manipulate the warmth inside others. The warmer the person, be it figuratively or literally, the more he could materialize a heat wave.**_(They figured each other out by accident)._**

"Vany, are you in there? You seemed to be spacing out." Canada asked worriedly.

"Da. I am really sorry for Vladimir; he will not be doing it again, right?" He smiled at his cat who nodded briskly.

"Good. I am sorry Russia but I think you have to go now, Alfred needs his sleep and probably a whole night to kick out the habit again." A sigh escaped from his lips as he remembered how hard it was to keep him off catnip.

Vlad nudged Russia to get closer looking at him. _'Do something! I didn't drug a friend of mine just for you to mess up again!'_

"I don't mind, I can help you with me. It's the least I could do as a responsible pet owner."He picked up his cat and squeezed him painfully on purpose.

Mattie smiled in relief. "Could you warm some cream for Al, Ivan?" he asked politely.

"Da. I will do it now!" the Russian was over-eager to please. Once he was in the kitchen only Canada and Vladimir were left near the door.

"I hope that you won't be doing that again, Vlad." His smile was soft as the cat purred to the hand scratching his ear.

Suddenly it became painful for the cat as he dug his now long knife-like claws deeper. The cat looked up being greeted with big red irises and a grin full of jagged, horribly overlapped, randomly angled rows of needle teeth that reached to his ears.

"I don't like it when someone's messing with my brother. And I'm sure as hell that he won't defend you like he does for most of the others." the voice became creepy as the long nails continuously scratched the ear.

"You don't want me to gobble you up, do you?" he asked with a soft laugh.

Vlad shook his stout head and pleaded for his life.

"Good then." His face was immediately back to normal.

"M-mattie…" his brother's voice was soft and muffled. He wasn't supposed to be up for an hour at least.

"Coming Al!" he stood up rushing to his living room.

**_EXTRA: The awesome hunt_**

There's nothing manlier than hunting. But while most men carried guns and trackers, traps, and whatnot, the twins had a simpler method.

This was the time of the year where they starved themselves the day before to get the most of it. They didn't want some silly trophy or mounting a deer's head on their wall. Their mother thought them better than that! No…all they needed was the deer.

A deer leapt out from the bushes obviously running from something, it had enough strength to look back.

It was a red-eyed man with a mouth with rows of needle like teeth. His soft blonde hair bounced as he ran faster.

He dug his long claws on its rump, actually breaking the bone underneath.

Its distressed cry was unanswered as it felt pain in moving. Before it knew it, it was greeted with feline fangs.

After a few seconds, the deer stopped moving.

Alfred stood up with a bloody smile and his canines sharper and longer than usual.

"Nice job bro." he patted Canada's back.

"Nice finishing blow. So, you chase this time?" the older smirked as he ruffled his brother's honey crown.

"Sure, then we'll get the fire started." Alfred ran deeper into the woods followed by an equally excited Matthew.

"C-could you stop being so animalistic? Be more humane than that!" England hollered angrily looking at the freshly killed ungulate.

"Oh, mon cher, they showed a lot more self-control. They truly have grown up. *SIGH* I remember when they were a lot younger…remember, when little Mattie would actually break every bone in the deer's body and little Alfie would pull its throat out with his little baby teeth?" France squealed remembering the cuteness overload he suffered from those earlier days.

"You're right I guess." Arthur sighed in defeat.

* * *

_** .FOLLOW.**__**SUGGEST!**_


	20. Where's the beer, Taking a Second Look!

_**Author's note:**_

_**HIYA! just an update for 'Unrequited', it'll take a lot longer. Lol, I'm really enjoying how it's coming out and all. I already have the whole story mapped out but of course I have to expound the scenes that are playing in my head. Plus, I think I'll be giving it a new name and a new summary...maybe! but it'll still contain 'Unrequited' for some of you to still notice it!**_

_**Anyway, I am passionate about DenAme and it's my main OTP so I hope you don't mind another DenAme fic. Anyway, I'm actually gonna post a new spin off (few-shots only) from 'Randomness'...like all of this, it's an utter random story that just so happens to be chaptered. That's why I am not posting it here, since this place is for one shots and drabbles only. Although, I haven't been able to think of drabbles lately...**_

_**(GCJajey's corner XD):**_

_**Basically the story is about how much Denmark differs from the way he acts around other people and the way he acts around America, his boss, and some human friends. or more accurately, the way he acts normally.**_

_**I would like all of you to keep an open mind. You might think we're being a bit too carried away with all the details here. maybe you're thinking they're becoming too OOC...but in all honesty, Danes aren't arrogant and loud as how they show him in the show. i did my research in Danish life, much like how Americans aren't like Peter Griffin...or anybody from Family guy...D:, sorry my American friends for being so horribly represented (but damn it it is still funny watching the show XD)**_

_**this is placed like months before 'Chapter 18:Can I have this Dance' in which the two bros were already having frequent sleep-overs.**_

_**This is what happened in their first sleep-over.**_

_**Warning: Smart!Denmark, Smart!America, um... Importunate!?America**_

_**We do not Own Hetalia! The Awesome Himaruya owns it and it is appreciated that you support him in his works! :D**_

* * *

**_(BEFORE 'CAN I HAVE THIS DANCE?')_**

**Where's the Beer?**

America remembers the first time he and his best friend started sleeping-over. It was still pretty recent actually just about half a year ago. It wasn't at all what he expected it to be. They've always been pretty close before so he knew that the big Dane was actually a lot more mature, calmer, smarter, and more intuitive than the empty-minded loud-mouth that constantly stomps around the bars near the building where their pointless meetings were being held.

He's seen his friend drunk on two occasions and both weren't because he just felt like drinking. To state facts, they seldomly hang out around bars. They usually went around parks just talking and walking. They were more into daring each other into doing the most embarrassing of things making a lot of countries point at them and call them _'immature'_. America kinda made it a big deal that a person can really have fun without beer in hand.

When they were alone, Denmark could be a fucking buzz-kill. He was that type of friend that always dicked you to do the right thing or stopped you from doing something stupid like getting a nose ring or a tramp-stamp or buying some weed from a random dude outside a bar. But every gesture was endearing in the eyes o the young nation and every tug from that strong hand made him fall deeper for the oldest Kingdom of Europe. You know besides the hot face and charming smile that only looked a year or two older than America's.

But still…

Like most representatives, he ought to be just like any other of his countrymen. From what Alfred knew from his Danish neighbors, they're happy people **_(check)_**, who drink a lot, cuss a lot **_(it's more of a conversational quirk or slang), _**incredibly non-racist and fair to all genders and sexual preferences **_(good)_**, humorously sarcastic, and not really religious **_(…America's at least respectfully religious but he ain't the fanatic types that shove their beliefs down people's throats and be a snobby know-it-all, so he doesn't mind)_**.

So, Matthias had to be like one of them. He had to be a heavy drinker; someone who cusses like a sailor; and a closed Christian **_(has been baptized but doesn't go to church or pray). _**He had the perfect picture of the Dane in his head. He had the perfect picture of what life would be like in the arms of the man. Alfred could not stop thinking about it the moment a sleep-over was planned.

"You've been redecorating, I see…" America looked around the house trying to think of a way to start a conversation of sorts.

"Ja. I do every couple of decades… 'keeping things up-to-date." The ravishing Dane chuckled. "Help yourself to the fridge, I stocked it up. 'Just need to go to the bathroom." The taller blonde waved as he climbed the stairs.

"SURE DUDE!" America hollered.

He immediately ran to the kitchen which was also conjoined with the dining area and the living area. The young nation opened the fridge seeing what the Dane meant by 'stocked'. And crap, it shocked him.

The freezer had meat and fish while the fridge part had eggs, cheeses, jams, and other foodstuff. It was packed with jars and jars of preserve and meat spreads and more meat and more meat and more meat.

But no beer**_._**

Maybe he was hiding the rest somewhere else. Knowing his friend, he could take more alcohol than an elephant and he meant that literally…maybe after experimenting on it with an elephant.

He went to open the cabinets only to find canned goods.

Of course you shouldn't put beer in the cabinets, that's just weird.

He tried the pantry, looking like a dog out for drugs. He couldn't find anything except for rice, pasta, and sacks of potatoes.

This could not be happening. Maybe, he was **_so _**alcoholic that he was under vigil watch with shock collars and everything and the reason he went upstairs was to hide it from him…

America ran around the ground floor looking for any trace that Denmark really was hiding beer or that he was on a shock collar.

Maybe documents and files?

He walked around stopping at a French door by the stairs. He checked to see if it was locked.

Damn it, it was.

Alfred looked around to see if anyone was there and when it was all clear, he protracted one of his long feline claws and used his outstandingly sharp eagle eyes to peep through the hole as he played with the lock.

**_*CLICK*_**

"Awesome…" the American hummed as he opened the doors to the once locked room.

He let out a sound of awe escape from his mouth. The room was furnished to the tens with mahogany walls and red carpeted accents. The windows were draped with a rich-blood color with golden-yellow curtains. In front of the bow window were a desk and a very comfortable, reclinable, and twistable sofa-chair also in red.

"He sure does like red a lot." America noted as he looked around for any trace of beer. He inspected the walls closely, noticing frames. He looked at the Danish words, deciphering them in less than a second.

"…D-diploma…engregia cum laude, with outstanding h-honors in Cardiology?!...given to MATTHIAS KØHLER!"he gasped in surprise. He took a look at the other frames.

"…College Mathematics…Architecture…Culinary…F-fine Arts?"

There was an uneasy silence that crept inside him. Why was he feeling intimidated? He knew a lot of countries had multiple degrees and went through multiple courses, but why was he suddenly feeling like Denmark was way out of his league?

Mattie had a degree in psychology, biology, physics, history, and finance. Ivan was a major in economics, dancing, and political sciences. Francis was a mathematics major as well as a general surgeon. And Arthur was into philosophy and chemistry.

Alfred on the other hand studied aeronautics, rocket science, Culinary Arts, animation, the Natural Sciences, Literature and Pediatric Neurology.

"C-crap, stop thinking about it…think beer!" he chanted under his breath. Just then, a mini fridge gleamed. His smile turned mischievous with his feet on tip-toes. He slowly opened the small door, letting out the cold air escape. It was so cold that it took a few seconds for the fog to clear.

He stopped dead in his tracks.

…

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS!?" he screamed frantically as he pulled out a pack of beer from the fridge.

"It's beer." The Dane came in with a playful whistle. "…I could've sworn that this was locked a while ago." He twisted the doorknob repeatedly, making sure it wasn't broken.

"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!" America pointed at his friend who was wearing rimless glasses.

"I'm Denmark…you're best bud for two centuries. Right?" answered the Dane in earnest confusion.

"Since when did you wear glasses and why the fuck is there only a single pack of beer in your fridge?" Alfred asked looking up at the taller European.

"Dude, you Americans sure do fucking cuss a lot. Anyway, I've been wearing glasses for a century, I think…" Denmark thought about it for a while with his chin resting between his forefinger and thumb.

"When I go out I wear contacts, if I don't wear either of the two, my eyes freaking hurt…must've been all the late nights with a book stuck on my nose." He grinned. "Oh, right the beer…" he thought for a moment. "Must've forgotten to stack the mini-fridge but don't drink that, those are almost a decade old..." he warned with a warm smile.

Alfred's eyes were white in terror and his mouth could've hit the floor and so did the expired pack of beer.

_'He likes… __**reading**__?'_

It was as if his assumption that being in a relationship with Matthias changed from being just fun and exciting with a lot of drunken nights and hard-core action to more of cold winter nights with the Dane making him hot cocoa with a soft smile and plenty of hugs and cuddles by the fire. He was definitely falling for him harder than he had before, which was already very, very hard. He felt his heart melt and his body heat up and…and…

"So ya wanna latte or a macchiato?" the sweet baritone broke the daze. The owner of the melodious voice had a cup of home-made macchiato on one hand and latte on the other.

"Eh…w-what?" America got confused as he stared at the man who had a serious case of _'Italy-eyes'_.

"Latte? OR Macchiato?" Denmark's eyes were playful at the question. "'See, I saw a flier advertising a Barista Class…so I took it and bought a book, checked some videos and voila!" His smile was like that of a child, all happiness.

Alfred was awe-struck and it took him a full minute to respond.

"Nah, I'm good." He smiled, not noticing the sudden frown that came after the open-mouthed smile.

"Oh…Okay then, just need t'throw this out… **_*not like I was trying to impress you or anything*"_** the last statement was grumbled and muffled. The sour nation made his way to his kitchen with the younger following close behind.

"America…if ya want to get beer so badly…we could go to the bar a block from 'ere." The other nation avoided all eye-contact as he threw the light brown liquid down the drain.

"I-it's not that. I-I just…" Alfred lost his train of thought when icy-blues froze him in place. A thick **_(not England-thick) _**brow slanted down while the other was raised. The crystal gems were perfect under the cold glass.

**HE HAD TO KNOW MORE!**

"What's your religion?" the random question came out from the big mouth.

Denmark tilted his head and thought of an answer.

_'Lutheran…Lutheran…Lutheran'_ America chanted, wanting to be right so badly.

"I'm technically Lutheran…converted a long time ago" he took out his silver cross necklace that was hidden under his shirt.

_'Score for America'_ he praised himself.

"But, Catholicism was the first religion I converted to. Even though it was banned for a while, I kinda rushed in to the first church I saw when it became legal again. 'Still remember the missionary who baptized me." He then rolled the right sleeve of his shirt up his fore arm to show a very old looking bracelet made up of small wooden balls with a very damaged almost black-from-decay wooden cross.

"So…I'm still not sure, even if there was that whole _'state religion'_ thing and even if Catholics make less than a percent of the total population. They're both the same to me. It's pretty confusing, for me anyway." He smiled weakly in reply.

_'Okay…so you're only half right'_ America rectified.

"How often do you go to church?"

"I don't always attend the masses, but I at least go there once a week to pray…ya know, to clear my head sometimes. I go back and forth between the two and sometimes I visit both of them in one day. In the end they're basically saying the same thing." He scratched the back of his head.

"What about you and beer?"

"I don't drink**_ that _**much, I would if I could. It's not like I'm a fucking alcoholic. Taking the garbage bag full of empty Finnish beer I found at the back of Sve's house to account, I think Finland drinks a lot more often. I just happen to handle myself a lot better…like a lot better than any of them. I drink a bit when I'm just lying around the house with nothing better to do, I fucking hate doing nothing." Denmark grunted with his shoulders up and arms crossed.

"So what **_do_** you do before you start drinking?" Alfred became more interested by the second.

"My work's done well before noon so I work out, play football **_(soccer)_** and some basketball…" America's mouth waters being filled with thoughts of the Dane's smug smile when he lifts barbells and when he scores in the field and the court.

"I have parkour and tumbling classes to teach, but it isn't daily." America's face burned bright. That's awesome and hot. It's like when somebody tries to snatch America's man-purse…**_(It's a very MANLY purse)_**…he'd jump up and do crazy flips and stop the robber dead in their tracks…

"Then I check online to see if anyone from DA wants commissions to be done then it's back to the canvas. I can do digital too, but I get commissioned a lot more for traditional ones, especially large ones.

I remember this insane commissioner who wanted me to make a 4.0 x 7.0 using colored pencils, it took me two years actually but I think 4800 Euros was fair, I mean he was the one who gave me the extra. Plus I enjoyed the challenge.

It's one of my main sources of personal income. I can handle my alcohol awesomely but I'm not some fucking Edgar Allen Poe. I totally get lazy when I drink even just a bit. I have deadlines to meet and demands to see through, so no time for the awesomeness of beer. I think I get about ten commissions per day and I always get awesome feedback. I have an art studio upstairs. It is actually very profitable and I fucking love to paint and draw, so it's a win-win. When I'm sober, I'll never ran out of ideas…they just pop out I guess." The Dane's face was scrunched up, thinking for other answers.

America's eyes widened. The artistic type didn't really seem to fit the other.

"If there aren't any, I sing in cafes and conventions. I also have a hosting gig, especially in France and Germany. Other than that, I just draw stuff in my sketch pad or play the piano or guitar or cook something when I'm stuck with nothing. I also clean a lot in a daily basis. Whatever I don't find boring really." America didn't seem to mind that the Dane was becoming irritated.

"I also like math problems, I don't need a calculator. I like the questions especially if it's advanced algebra, trigonometry, calculus…just give me the numbers and I'll give ya the answers. Also, I like playing trigonometry Sudoku in the morning. Any more questions?" the European asked harshly.

It wasn't the questions that irritated Matthias but how much the other's face looked disbelievingly at him each time he answered. Alright, he wasn't perfect but who was?

"Are you really Denmark?" America poked the European.

"**_I AM_**, damn it. **_I am_** the **_FUCKING AWESOME_** **_Kingdom_** of **_MOTHERFUCKING Denmark_**." The Dane took off his glasses and proudly swatted his chest shooting a very heated look to the American. He flinched suddenly realizing what was happening this whole time.

"You've been stereotyping me haven't you?" He asked in a very threatening tone.

"N-no…I-I mean…yes." America tried to muster every ounce of courage and dignity he had to look directly at the fiery light blue eyes.

"I didn't mean to, really." he smiled apologetically.

"Everybody's different from one another. If you think we're just personifications, **_some mindless dolls_**, how could we personify just one stereotype of our people? Aren't there like hundreds of them out there?" His glare intensified even more.

"**_Jeg Kongeriget Danmark._**" The Dane reiterated. He perched his glasses on his nose. "But…I'm also the equally awesome **_(if not more awesome)_**, **_Matthias Køhler_**, What's so wrong with that shit?" his eyes softened in evident hurt and confusion.

"Should I assume that you're a self-centered blockhead? Or maybe you're the stupid rich kid? Or are ya the judgmental, self-righteous, racist?" Denmark didn't know why but only **_he_** could bring out this much emotion out of him and given the circumstances that's a bad thing.

But with the scared blue hues that strained to be hard in front of him, also brought out the side he wished never came back, the one that cared. He didn't want to meddle with his choices but in the very instant he hears something stupid his reluctant nature goes flying out of the window. His conscience was stronger around him…as if he just had to pull him away from the bad. Even if he couldn't do it every day and in every meeting, at least he could deal with his personal problems.

"Ya know what? I'm not in the fucking mood for beer right now, just turn to the shitty left and go straight ahead. The bar's also a fucking strip club so enjoy the awesomeness of motherfucking Danish Gs…if ya haven't played with those giant milk tanks, I freaking pity you!" he gestured with his hands wide apart as if holding a giant balloon.

Of course he'd had sex with a lot of women, they were very available when he needed…stuff for his frustrations. About 95% of countries are bisexual, so it wasn't anything new to have slept around with both options.

"…Sorry I'm not some alcoholic atheist." He said muttered within ear shot as he went up stairs.

"I'm **_Alfred Jones_**." America said in a shaking voice. The man turned around looking at him with an obvious _well-of-course-you-are-idiot_ face.

"I like…no, I love Physics, Chemistry, Geology, Astronomy and anything Science-related. I love Shakespeare, Dickens, Andersen, and Edgar Allen Poe. I love sports. I love to dance. I love to write. I love history and I don't think Math is really that hard. I love to cook but you already know that. I love playing some of my instruments. I love watching romantic comedies, even the really crappy ones. And I love it when I start on making another Disney movie. I can speak in every official language in the world in utmost fluency…I-I just don't want others to know, you know?" The voice broke a lot. He rubbed his arm comfortingly looking away.

Denmark became anxious. It wasn't that his friend was a polyglot **_(although knowing every language of every country in the world is almost unbelievable)_** because even he could speak in twenty languages no sweat. He was nervous because, he might've heard him whispering '_I love you_'s and other romantic gestures in his native tongue when America wasn't looking.

"Mattie and I own a gourmet candy-ice cream-baked goods store-patisserie, a steak house, and a French restaurant. T-they're the best ones around…if what I heard's true. Also, I think it's scary that there are people who think God's an alien…even if I know Tony." He continued his rants like a nervous wreck of a child.

"Dude, I said that I'm sorry. I just really thought I know you by now…" America added with his voice breathy and exhausted.

"I-I just feel like…I'm not being a good friend if I don't know you that well." His cerulean orbs contrasted his burning-red cheeks. "Especially since it's been centuries already!"

A small blush came up the Dane's pale cheeks. It wasn't just because it was coming from him but it was the feeling that someone actually thought knowing the real him was_** that**_ important.

"I think I might've overreacted a bit." Denmark scratched the back of his neck as he went back down to meet his friend.

"A bit?" America said sarcastically and with a hint of irritation.

"Dude, don't turn it around. Ya should be glad I accepted your apology." The man said smugly with a loud laugh that also made the other laugh.

"…So do you still want some beer or…" The Dane pointed at his makeshift barista corner.

"Dude, I don't think I'm in the mood for beer either." America smiled as he walked towards the main machine. "Plus, I could show you some pointers." His hands were firmly pressed as he tinkered with it.

"I don't think I n-" his reply was cut with a small cup of latte with the most beautiful rossetta he had ever seen. He took the cup and gave it a whiff before sipping it quietly.

"Alright, I guess I do need some pointers." A frown of defeat was stuck on his face earning a proud grin from America.

"…I've played around with Trigonometry Sudoku a bit…eight squares actually." He added as his head got filled with hot air.

"I've done ten by ten. One book, every single day" The other said with _Italy-eyes _once more as he savored the rich latte he had.

"You got me." America snickered as he humbled himself in defeat.

"Ya won't mind keeping all this, our little secret, right?" Matthias requested with his expression evidently worrisome.

"I won't. But can I ask why?" America, by now had his own latte.

"Same as you keep yours." The man smiled at the American.

"Are you sure? I mean a fairly religious, irregular-drinking, paintbrush-wielding, party-hosting, singing; Mathematics-acing, nerd of a Dane isn't so bad." _It's actually really cute_. America looked away blushing.

"Oh, so you won't mind me telling about the multilingual, classic-loving, chickflick-watching, five-star-chef of nerd you are underneath?" Denmark teased, almost threatened with his height.

"Alright. Alright. An awesome secret it is." Alfred brought his hand out which was shook rather firmly by Matthias. "But you owe me lunch at Noma."

"Dude, I can just make ya the food they serve there." the taller man swatted the shorter boy's back causing a small cough.

It was his fucking awesome idea to promote agricultural produce by promoting a modern take on Danish cuisine. And now, he had the best restaurant in the world!

"You're the first person who even bothered taking a second look. Most of the time, I somehow end up in bars where I watch them get drunk and complain about their lives." The older said shyly.

"You're the one who never saw me as an asshole with a six-year-old's brain." America smiled weakly in genuine gratitude.

"I try my best." The older teased looking at the pouting blonde. His icy-blues open this time in slight softness as he never really meant to offend him. In all honesty, his brothers were a lot more meddlesome when they were younger than the American.

There was a warm silence between the two blondes as they leaned on the countertop that was made of white granite, side by side. America grinned not really minding the comment.

"Ya know what?" Denmark pushed himself off. "I think I need just a **_little_** alcohol in me t'night." He gestured with his forefinger and thumb squinting closer to each other.

The man turned around and opened a gigantic cabinet, which America was surprised he didn't notice. It was sectioned into three parts. The first one was full of vodka, bourbon, scotch, whiskey, and other types of alcoholic drinks. The other section was purely stacked with wine and the last section was all beer. The collection of nectar looked expensive and opened to a minimum.

_'Guess he really doesn't drink that much.'_ America reiterated the newly-discovered fact.

"Also, next time, Ya shouldn't just associate me with beer, my palette is wider than that. I love all my alcohol babies!" Matthias smiled as he got out some bottles of different drinks.

"So, what d'ya want?" the Dane's grin was warm with his posture seductive, placing all his weight on the hand that was on the counter top while his other hand was resting on his free hip.

"Don't tell me that you're a bartender too?" America mirrored the position.

"I might know a thing or two…you?" the man's smug smirk widened.

"Maybe a little…" there was definitely an air that contradicted the innocent remark.

"Irish Car comb?" Denmark took out a bottle of Irish cream, whiskey and stout.

"Keep'em flowin'!" a loud laugh erupted from the younger nation as he watched the skillful hands of the Dane.

"To bros?" _'I mean, lovers'_ America bit his tongue back to not make the moment awkward.

"To bros." Denmark took a long shot of the strong drink, pushing all the warm and fuzzy feelings back inside him.

* * *

_**Alright, we noticed that we haven't been looking at anything that has to do with history. So I hope you can suggest any other random thoughts that would be awesome to right about, dudes, it is okay if it had nothing to do with history and relations but it is a welcomed thought.**_

_**STAY AWESOME!**_


	21. Trust

_**Author's Note:**_

_**Alright I just had to post this! Sorry really! Anyway, I promise this time that I have an awesome RusCan story plan, scratch that it's also a Baltic Trio and Prussia thing! So, I hope you'd check this humble fic-collection of epic randomness from time to time.**_

_**So, again unrequited is taking a bit slow...I want to write stuff here for the mean time. Xd**_

_**So, hope u wait for awhile.**_

_**(GCJaeky's Notes XD)**_

_**Anyway, I think America's cute here and NorBela isn't really the focus here. So...yeah. I am also having a bit of trouble with Unrequited...XD...**_

_**Warnings: It's1inthemorningIcan'tthinkXD!**_

_**Hetalia, not ours, is a work of a Genius.**_

* * *

**Trust**

It all started at the 'flan'.

It was a giant compound with a flat oblong top of plain white supported by beams of varying thickness, crisscrossing inwardly. Other than that it was protected by two layers of NASA grade glass. Most called it the inverted plateau since it's bigger on top then bottom.

The compound was sectioned into three, each mouth-watering in its own way.

The walls of metal and glass give the people a view of the beautiful world within.

The first was an authentic steak house that was known globally and recognized adamantly for serving the best meat in the world. However its charm intensifies with its authenticity to foreign styles and approaches of grilling, smoking, and barbecuing. This was for families and people who love five-star food without the intricacies of five-star dining. It was laid-back, natural and homey.

The next was a classy French restaurant with food to die for and an interior to drool upon. The truly lavish style complimented the food in all its lavish ingredients and plating. Every food publication and even fine living magazines have made at least three features about the restaurant.

But last but not the least had to be a place where everybody could enjoy. It was the Sweet emporium. Just looking through the glass was enough to turn one's sweet tooth on overdrive.

There was a stack of delectable brownies with the moistest fudge and cherry filling. Rock candies of all colors and designs were beautifully placed in one huge glass gar according to color, while glass spheres held candied fruits and such. A tray of chocolate-covered bacon and a jar of the most colorful lollipops were placed just in front. If you peeped behind the colorful decor you could see the whimsical interior filled with pastries and men working tirelessly on stretching rock candies. Machines of toffee would go on while artisans continued to craft etched chocolate eggs of candied eggs that looked too good to eat especially since they looked Faberge.

Although it may look like a house of diabetes, their creations were praised time and time again for being just right in the level of sweetness. Everybody could enjoy it; especially since the store makes it a point to put a limit in one's spending due to health concerns. Other than that adult's could enjoy more mature desserts in the _"guilty shack"_ just right next to the soda fountain.

That's when they saw him.

Lu and Nat have been dating for a while and though they might have fought on where they should spend their fifth date, it was decided by the man of the relationship, Natalia, to go on a food adventure.

They've finished sampling the best steaks of the grill house and the Belarusian girl could not believe that authenticity of the draniki she ordered and how even a simple glass of red iced tea could be...fulfilling to the taste buds.

They decided to keep things light for dessert to be heavy, the only thing Lukas pleaded for with his last ounce of pride and dignity. He had a bit of a sweet tooth.

On their way in, a wind of whimsy greeted them as the all the scents combined into one big aura of sweetness. It looked like heaven to Norway while it looked like one of Finland's Workshops to Belarus. What caught their attention was a sweet old Scottish lady working on hot candy with her bare hands.

"Isn't that what Japan did on the last meeting?" Belarus asked in a whisper. Only a small grunt replied her as the man was transfixed by the process.

"It must've been hard to learn that..." The soft words escaped his soft green eyes of the woman shined in recognition.

"It really was m'dearie, but m'boss was really patient with me. I've been working for him for two decades you see and now I'm head of the crafting department." She answered in all humility before greeting someone behind the two lovebirds. "Speaking of..."

"Hey, Mary, are you sure you're okay with working today? It's your wedding anniversary after all, gold is really special y'know?" A familiar cheerful voice sent shivers down their spines. Although something was off and it had something to do with the light Texan accent that coated voice.

"I'm fine, boss, he knows this is my life's passion...that old bag of skin and bones won't stop these hands!" She smiled widely.

"You've been working for me for decades and you still call me boss." The voiced sighed. "...just call me Al."

"Sure, sure, Mr. America" she chimed before passing the two tensed nations causing them to turn around reluctantly.

"Hey guys, I didn't know you were coming! I can't believe you heard of this place!" The tall American swooped them both up in a firm hug. His Texan accent gone like smoke.

The American was a lot bigger than Lukas in terms of built and height and was similar to Germany's and Sve's but of course proportionally smaller, pretty much a shocker when he first saw the kid shirtless with a strap of cooling gel covering his rocking abs...

He placed them safely on the ground before grinning at them; he was wearing comfortable black jeans and a chef's shirt with red inner linings and the first button unbuttoned. He didn't seem to be wearing his trusty glasses and he did have some sweat on him so he was probably working at the back.

The two couldn't help but circumspect him for a nanosecond. His hair wasn't really that blonde, though still golden, it had a slight tinge of tones warmer like orange and red, but only the slightest around the roots. He was a light strawberry blonde.

"Um...dudes, is there something wrong with my face?" The innocent blue eyes intensified his surprising charm as he rubbed his slightly rosy cheeks.

"A-anyway, you own this place?" Belarus asked softly, she knew Alfred was a good cook, he's cooked more than once for their buffalo meetings but owning an establishment like the Flan was something else.

"It's a shared thing with Mattie. I just handle this part a lot more often while he handles the French side. And then we meet together in the buffet side." He smiled softly. The soft smile was a refreshing change.

"Why? You think I'm gonna give you two a discount?" He laughed boisterously but somehow the two knew that he was just kidding good-naturedly...as if it was much less annoying than how the other times he laughed during meetings.

"Go on dudes, help yourselves. It's on me. But we still have the health limit applied!" He shouted as the two went off the distance, darting for the jars of sweets. They actually started fighting over candy with kids…

When they got back, a lot of bread crumbs and ice cream decorate their faces and they still had a handful of candy and a glass of peach Bellini. This had to be too good to be true.

"Don't eat too much Hansel and Gretel! I might be tempted to cook you later." America commented seriously concerned on how their stomachs were bulging.

"Lu, can I ask you a favor?" The older man looked up being greeted by a small plate with the moistest butter cake he has seen outside of his land. "Could you...tell me how it tastes? I mean, I know it won't be as awesome as yours but still." He blushed ending his sentence.

Lukas was very reluctant. The last time he ate America's cooking he was blasted to the wall in unadulterated mouth-gasm...he was sure he didn't want that to happen in public.

"Sure." He said bravely holding his confused girlfriend's hand with his trembling hands. He took the small fork and gently got a small piece of the spongy yet moist cake. The aroma exploded, all buttery and cakey…how the fuck was that possible?

Norway inched the cake closer with his mouth opening little by little until the yellow sponge was in the confines of his wet mouth.

Everything went white and he felt rainbows erupting from his mouth. It didn't taste anything like his cake but it was at the same caliber of perfection.

"Norway are you alright? I-I'm sorry…"

When the Norwegian came through, he was on the floor and was held by a very apologetic-looking American.

"I-It was good." He said flatly with a blush. It was actually more than great if that was possible, but he had pride and he didn't want the American to start blabbering about.

"T-thanks. I'll go get the sign." A soft blush and a shy smile was the least expected answer. He scribbled something on a black chalkboard and placed it meekly on the display window.

"There. 'Norway-approved Butter cake'" he said with a happy grin.

"Hey Al, are the croissants ready yet?" Another familiar voice came in with a chime of a greeting bell. Although it was louder than what they were used too.

"Yeah Mattie, I just asked Seth to bring them to you actually." The golden-strawberry blonde answered happily.

"I must've missed him then." An audible laughter came from behind.

"Good morning, Mr. Norway and Ms. Belarus." The Canadian's voice went back to its soft almost inaudible voice. He politely bowed and proceeded to talk with his twin.

He wore a white chef's shirt with black inner linings and slacks. His shirt was also snug on his beautiful form. His soft champagne blonde hair was neatly tied in a small pony tail. His charming light lavenders were glued to his brother's shining sapphires.

"…Al, you should really change your clothes, your shift's almost done and I'm pretty sure I don't want you getting sick again" The older twin brought his hand on the broad shoulder.

"I should be saying the same thing to you" America laughed as he ruffled the neat yet sweaty ponytailed hair.

Their heads were almost conjoined as they continued to laugh and talk. Champagne swirled with juicy strawberries.

Champagne and strawberries, that would be an awesome code name…

The two were now in designer Ts. Alfred wore a navy blue one with faded white stars scattered on it while Matthew wore white one with two simple stripes going down. Both shirts' sleeves were cut just below the shoulder, emphasizing their intimidating arms. How the hell didn't the two notice them change? Why would they want to see them change anyway?

"So, Bro, are you going to watch that movie with me tonight?" the younger asked, urging eagerly.

"I'm sorry, Bro, but I'm going to be late tonight…a critic's coming tomorrow so the restaurant has to be spotless" the older smiled apologetically.

"You're no fair. You promised me and remember what mom said…" the American whined, pursing his lips and crossing his arms.

"Hey, you ditched me last week for the very same reason. Now promise me that you won't watch it without me or without someone to calm you down **_*Cough*Like Denmark*Cough*_**" he reasoned out stopping by the door.

"Dude, I watch gory SciFi, graphic murder shows, and bloody action with torture. I think I can handle an R-16 comedy about the end of the world." He scoffed his concerned Canadian twin.

"It has Rogen in it and have you seen the cast? I'm pretty sure that it's gonna be **_that _**kind of comedy." Canada reasoned out causing the other to pout more.

"Stop treating me like a baby and don't act like you don't end up confused and anxious like I do." America quipped.

"I'm not denying it. That's why we watch it together, remember?" soft amethysts twinkled teasingly. "But if you want to watch it so bad…" he looked at the two utterly silent Europeans.

"You could ask them to watch it with you."

"Wha-" "Please, Nat, please, please, please. Mattie can totally watch it later without my pity at all!" he laughed as he glared comedically at his tensed brother.

Natalia didn't want to go at all so she looked at Lukas he had a malicious look to him.

_'So you think you have the dick in the relationship, Ja?'_

"We'd be glad to!" he smiled softly causing the Belarusian to groan and the American to cheer.

"Come on dudes, we can use my car!" Knowing how strong America was, the two were dragged to the parking lot while the brothers waved g goodbye to each other with a lot of _'be carefuls' _and _'call me if…s'_

* * *

"So, you two want burgers?" Alfred whistled as he walked into his kitchen. The two gave a _'Hell no'_ face which he laughed at.

"It's not take out, I'm planning on making some fresh ones." He took out a bag of freshly ground meat from his fridge and smiled. "Fresh from my farm!"

The two had nothing to say but an approving grunt. They inspected the house, the kitchen was huge with a lot of contraptions for cooking and what seemed to be a pantry looked even larger. The counter tops were lined with jars full of fresh spices and dried goods, like vanilla beans and sun-dried tomatoes. The dining area looked small compared to the kitchen. It had a table big enough for six or seven. Lukas wondered to the living area which was awesomely conjoined with the living area. It had a respectably big and a long lounging sofa made for a lot of people. They peeped outside the kitchen back to the main hall to look at the walls lined up with paintings.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom." Natalia pointed her way to the main hall.

"Sure, Nat…the second door to the left. Anything you want me to cook?" America asked as he formed the meat into patties.

"Caesar salad." She answered off the distance. "Do it with the way I like it!" she added.

"Sure. And you?" he smiled at Lukas who blushed.

"Anything's fine…" he looked away.

"Dude, is there something wrong?" the other asked worriedly as he cooked the meat slowly.

"Nothing. You just seem…different." The Norwegian said out loud, feeling the heavy burden getting lifted off his chest. But it came back when the American smiled sadly.

"I thought you'd be okay with it, you know, 'coz I've been sending you a lot of boxes…" the younger nation laughed softly, trying to keep his nerves calm.

"Different in a good way is what I meant." Lukas corrected. "I don't understand why you can't just act like this during meetings."

"It won't make a difference." He said quietly as he flipped the meat. "The way I'm viewed is because of what my bosses and people do to yours. Whenever shit happens, it's not my fault. But I'd rather make the others think that I did some of the shit than feel bad when they have to stab my back whenever they have to…" he smiled.

"I've never been close to any of my bosses since the Civil War. So, I just hear what they have to say and leave it up to them to handle stuff." The young American sighed as he toasted some buns effortlessly and gracefully.

"I mean I try to help in any way I can, I always try to make them pass laws and make programs for the unfortunate ones…but they always decline, so I help with charities but I know it won't make a huge difference. Baby steps, I guess…" he looked down at the chopping board while he tossed some salad in a salad bowl.

"HOW THE HELL DO YOU HAVE A DEGREE IN NEUROLOGY?...OH YEAH AND HOW THE FUCK ARE YOU A ROCKET SCIENTIST?" Belarus marched in the mega room, surprising her boyfriend and eliciting a look of recognition from the taller nation.

"Did you go into my room?" Natalia nodded. "Well, It's not a big deal…I mean you have multiple degrees too, right?" he asked humbly.

"I do…but…you're a surgeon!" she corrected.

"So is Den-dude." He said confidently as if bragging for his surprisingly humble crush. "Damn, I'd pretend to have a tumor in the heart if he would be the one checkin' m-I mean he's an awesome dude." America laughed nervously, feeling his heart flutter.

"Oh which brings me to my next point…What the hell is this?" Belarus took out a large pillow that looked a lot like mochi! Denmark.

"G-give me that…" America hugged the huge whole-body pillow with his arms and legs. "It's not weird…I have p-pillows of all of you." He laughed, obviously lying.

"America, I know you like Denmark…remember the whole number we did?" Belarus crossed her arms.

"Don't remind me, England just had to ruin the mood…didn't he?" America commented about this _'number'_ that Norway had no clue as to what it might've been.

Norway took a moment; his brother liked him a lot too. What the hell did the American see in him? It would've made a lot more sense if he fell for the Denmark he used to know, the soft smiling giant and not the hyper, dense, idiotic man he was now. All the four ever to wanted do was to tell him how much pain he caused to their side but they understood why that happened and they still love him to death. The only problem was the guilt that came over whenever they saw him smiling, as if nothing happened, and how he never acted the way he used to anymore, it was like looking at a different person. But who cares, the heart knows what it wants.

"P-please don't tell him, I know you two are really close…" the sapphires were pleading melting Lukas's heart. They were close, but he couldn't help but feel a mix of anger, guilt, and pity for their older _'brother'_ whenever he saw him, especially since he's the next to take responsibility for his three younger siblings **_(yes, Sweden's younger than him)._** He nodded just like how he answered to every yes and no question.

"So, are we going to watch something or what?" Lukas shook his head trying to stop the blunt pain of losing the brother who took care of him in spite of everything, like being a toddler when he was forced to take care of him, parentless and homeless.

"O-oh…sure, it's this one." The American quietly walked to the Living room side and gently played the dvd before finishing up the burgers and the salad.

Belarus could feel a sudden change in both demeanors, especially Norway despite his neutral features.

At the start of the movie laughs, glances, and oh shits were exchanged. But as the movie went on especially starting the 'revelation' part, America seemed to tense and become anxious. He started asking questions, like why are the actors so rude and why was there a shadow of a demon's junk and why was there cannibalism and why was Tatum suddenly a slut and why there was another penis again and about heaven and why it has crack and…and…To sum it all up, it was as if a child was watching the movie. To think that the first ten minutes of the movie made Alfred laugh his as off like the young man he was.

"America! Get a grip, none of that is real…It was just a bad movie. Scratch that it's a horrible movie." Belarus tried to coax America from hiding behind the coax.

"B-but it had a lot of good reviews…" he answered shakily.

"It varies by region, I guess. Now, be a good boy and come out of there." Norway joined in trying to sound as comforting as possible.

"C-canada's right." America, wearing sweatpants and a gray tank top, stood up completely shaking like a Chihuahua.

Just then Lukas got a text from Canada.

_"I guess I'll be home a lot later, please give Alfred some warm milk or a good back rub or a scratch at the back of his right ear. Do not question these. Do not speak of what you will see. You are just having a dream if you ever see something out of the normal, not like there'll be anything abnormal. I repeat, you will not question or say anything about this. Anything leaking out can and will be used against you. More importantly, have fun!"_

'That's a little weird.' Lu was dumbfounded. He glanced at the tall built yet shaking American getting shouted at by a hostile Belarusian girl.

He slowly walked towards them, not really sure of what he was doing, it sounded ridiculous but everything's ridiculous when it came to countries. He held his hand out near the American's ear gaining a soft confused pleading glance from the tall American with the bluest eyes. He reached for the ear and gave it a small scratch. Belarus was about to scream at her boyfriend who had his eyes closed when a sudden groan came.

America tilted his head to get more of the relaxing, addictive sensation. He let out his soft purr. He was becoming undone as he felt his knees grow weak and starting to relax.

"…G-got a good hand there" he muttered with a thick Texan accent.

"What are you doing?" Natalia angry-whispered. Norway handed her his cell phone. She read the message.

"Rub his back." He said calmly, intrigued by the felid reactions of the young nation before him.

With a darkened face she reached for the taut back that was broader than his boyfriend's. The tall American caved his back and started to purr louder. In less than a minute, he fell to the sofa. His blue eyes were half-lidded and distant; it closed and opened lazily like a cat.

"Y-you two still haven't…answered…" he said weakly, slurring on every word.

The two didn't bother, they started rubbing on the sensitive areas that acted like his off-button harder. The victim yawned.

"Please don't tell…" he pleaded weakly, completely vulnerable.

"We won't tell him, don't worry." Natalia cooed in a maternal manner.

"No…n-not just him…the others. Don't tell the others 'bout me." He fought the sleepy feeling, wanting to get his request-demand across.

"We won't" Norway smiled softly. "You're secrets safe with us." Belarus added.

With the answer acknowledged, the American stopped fighting and fell asleep. The two were strangely compelled and poked him on his hard gut making him curl his body with a distressed grunt.

**_~*KAWAII*~_**

"What should we do now?" the girl looked at his contemplating boyfriend.

"Wait for Canada." He answered causing his girlfriend to groan in annoyance. He smiled inwardly.

_'I have the dick!'_

After like two hours, Belarus was still groaning and muttering curses and complaints with her face flat on a throw pillow. America was still sleeping like a rock. Norway was looking surfing the net for new recipes to try out for his meek café back home and glancing at the clock every minute.

_11:00 pm_

"Hey Al, I'm home…" the surprisingly loud voice came in with a door shutting and keys shaking. "Al?"

Canada came in still wearing his sweaty shirt from before and gave a small smile, seeing his sleeping brother before glancing at the two.

"You shouldn't have waited for me. I am truly sorry Mr. Norway and Ms. Belarus." He apologized softly.

"I guess I have to watch it alone then." He said pathetically.

"So did anything weird happen?" Mattie asked calmly while stroking the light strawberry head of his brother.

"Nothing, just some purring…whatever that was." Belarus stood up groggily.

"Good." The Canadian sighed. He gave a toothy grin when America shifted positions. "I hope you understand how much he trusts you two." He gave a worried expression forcing his smile.

"There are about two hundred people out there who don't know a thing about the real him." the older North American sounded very serious. "You don't know how loveable he could be to the rest of the world if he could just…" he grunted with a pained look. "Never mind." He looked back with a smile.

"Anyway, I think it's too late for you two to go home, I hope you don't mind sleeping here for a night. We have a lot of extra rooms, so do you want one room or two?" he asked politely.

"I know that you two would just say some excuse to leave but please just stay the night, it is the least I can do for the help and I think Al would be happy to see you two in the morning." The soothing voice coupled with their sleepiness made them putty.

"Sure. We'll be sleeping here." Natalia immediately answered before Lukas could reject the invitation.

_'This is for taking the dick away!'_

_'Crap.'_ the Norwegian cursed as he got dragged down the hall by his girlfriend.

Canada smiled as he picked up his twin easily and headed to his room.

"Sleep tight, Al"

"Sleep…tight…Mattie…"

* * *

_**COMMENT. FOLLOW. SUGGEST. PLEASE, I REALLY WANT TO HEAR FROM YOU GUYS! XD**_


	22. Jealousy is a Tulip

_**Author's Note:**_

_**HIYA! so this time I'm gonna reveal A crack pairing I ship, oh so desperately. I'm not really a person who ships a character with more than one other, though I'm not really that bothered when I read fics that don't use my OTPs. Thought it;s wierd how I feel my heart breaking when I see DenNor and DenSu...*SIGH**HEARTBREAKS***_

_**Anyway, I'm not really planning including this new pairing in this collection. Though, I'll be writing one shots from time to time...AGAIN, AFTER I FINISH UNREQUITED!**_

_**GCJakey's Note:**_

_**This couple is extremely...extremely unpopular (taboo...) anyway, I was just drawn to them...and I made Tailed like it too...So win-win. Plus, this is a RusCan-y thing. I plan to write another RusCan-y fic placed during the cold war and a Rus fic with the Awesome Trio.**_

_**Warning: Jealous!Russia, Secretive!Canada**_

* * *

**Jealousy is a Tulip**

Russia isn't really the jealous type. And if he were, what right does he have to pout and sulk in front of Canada if they were only friends? B**_est friends_** to be exact…he was right after America, Kumajirou…and _*sigh*_ **_NETHERLANDS _**_(shockingly)__**!**_

Ivan never really hated the Dutch nor necessarily liked him. He didn't see anything in him that would make sweet Mattie like him. He had a blank face, a rude demeanor, a strange addiction to tulips, and a smoking problem.

Did he like his body? **_Of course not_**, what kind of fucking question is that?

Russia's the biggest one among the male countries, followed by Denmark by just half an inch _(arm-wise), _then Sweden by an inch, then Germany and **Netherlands** by an inch and a half, then America and Canada but only because they were _two inches shorter_ than the West Germanic blondes, but they had the same built as them, if not a bit broader due to their height. Then, there was the bad touch trio, then England, then Norway, followed by the Italians, then Finland…and Russia didn't care for the rest.

So, what? Why have those two been hanging out often this past week?

It all started on Monday in beautiful Berlin. The Dutch representative had burst through the doors with a truckload of Canada's favorite tulips, as a thank-you gift for helping him out during the Second World War. It wasn't weird at all, at first. But as the day went on it became a lot more peculiar to the Russian.

_The vigil amethyst eyes of the Russian were glued on the huge smile on the Canadian's face. He was __**'Being-with-Alfred'**__ happy. He seldom saw him this happy, even in his own company…and he was supposed to be his __**(third)**__ best friend._

_"So, I see that you like the flowers…" Netherlands dropped his head to be in eye level with the smiling angel named Canada._

_"Yes, of course, Lars. _Tank je voor de mooie tulpen_" he smiled in gratitude, effortlessly speaking the older nation's native tongue._

_"_Het is geen probleem ..._" he answered back before whispering audibly to the North American's ear. "_Mag ik u vragen om een gunst?_"_

_"_Natuurlijk_." With that the two men excused themselves from the conference, leaving him to wander what 'favor' Lars asked from Matthew. Oh yeah, Russia speaks Dutch. It is the only Germanic language he knows besides English and German._

_"Is there something wrong, mi amigo?" the worried Spaniard smile._

_'No. do not talk to him…he'll just shit on your name again' he ignored Toni which made the other start whispering stuff about being worried about Russia's sudden deafness._

_"Alright. There is something wrong, could you please stop spreading rumors?" he asked politely gaining a smile of recognition from the other._

_"What rumors?" Spain really looked confused. "Now what is it?" he whispered trying to not get the screaming German's attention._

_"Is there something going on between Canada and __**the Dutch**__?" he emphasized the last word causing Spain to tilt his head._

_"…Well there is, I just don't know what." Toni crossed his arms and slanted one brow. Ivan felt his cold heart churn out blood of pure jealousy. His fist was clenched and shaking and his eyes were deadly sharp._

_"Calm down." With the touch of the tanned hand, the Russian restrained himself. He guided Russia's head to rest on his strong chest, rocking him back and forth with a weirdly comforting lullaby. Russia started crying…_

That was very humiliating, at least no one noticed. So, basically Canada kept on running off with Netherlands, leaving Russia alone since Prussia wasn't seating in and America was absent. At least Mattie had the common decency not to lie. He always told the truth and asked to take a rain check instead.

_"Sister…I need help." Russia barged into Ukraine's hotel room, giving her a big hug._

_"On what?" she asked softly, surprised that her younger brother's asking advice form her._

_"What do you do if a guy…just keeps on spending time with somebody else…and you're kinda jealous." His face reddened considerably._

_"Well…you should show your abs then!" she smiled with eyes sparkling zealously._

_"W-what? Not this again!" Russia took a few steps back protectively._

_"No, no. That was boobs. This time it's abs!" she defended her ridiculous answer. "Show the guy what he's missing, that kinds get guys going, right? A little flirting is all good. I mean, you and Canada aren't a couple-couple anyway." She added, causing Russia to freeze in place._

_"Of course I know, Nat told me months ago." She answered the question playing on her brother's mind._

_"Now, I am telling you…Canada isn't the biggest prude, so sexying it up would entice him a bit…" Ukraine took a sip from her cup of peppermint tea._

_"Are you sure?" he asked worriedly._

_"Of course I am!"She smiled surely, though Russia remained unconvinced._

Ivan is not the one for exhibitionism, but if it was _that_ necessary, why not? The only thing he was waiting for was the right moment. The days passed by and it was now the last day of the meeting, Canada and Netherlands didn't seem to be planning on sticking around for the rest of the meeting and politely excused themselves a few minutes apart from each other.

Now was the time…he just had to make a move.

He slipped out of the room unnoticed as the German continuously shouted at the nations who couldn't seem to shut up.

Once the door was closed quietly, he dashed down the hall, to the route that would surely intercept the path taken by the two blondes.

He hid by the corridor east of the main hall leading to the exit, eavesdropping on their conversation.

"I'll get things ready." Lars said flatly, gaining a sound of approval from the shorter, cuter Canadian.

"I'll be following you soon." Mattie answered before getting a big hug from the Dutch which was reciprocated.

"Dank u!" he said softly near the ear of Russia's Canada!

"Better get going, our little plan won't work!" smiled the North American with a playful wink. The European nodded and allowed his lips to curve up in a small smile before leaving.

Mattie turned around his heel and walked back to the conference room.

Perfect.

Russia blocked his way, shocking his friend.

"Privyet, Mattie!" he greeted cheerfully.

"Oh…umm…Hi, Vany." Canada answered back before starting to walk once more.

"Where are you going?" Russia followed him back.

"Oh, just the conference room…"the other answered simply.

"I have awesome abs!" Russia blurted out randomly, lifting his coat to reveal the massive hairy built trunk that was so defined that it looked flexed even though it wasn't.

"That is nice, Russia, now may you please make way, mon ami?" Mattie asked politely, irritated by his friend.

"I have awesome arms!" The taller one didn't bother and flexed his arm that was as big as a watermelon. The champagne blonde stopped and looked at it quizzically.

He brought his two rough hands on the clothed muscles and squeezed on it tightly and having super strength was able to make Russia, who also had super strength, feel some pressure.

The Canadian took off his jacket and rolled the sleeve of the shirt underneath.

It was big as well, not as big though, and it had scars around the wrist and one gash on the shoulder. Then, it had a tattoo of a tribal maple leaf on the shoulder.

Russia blushed, he could never get used to seeing the other's body. The shorter man sized both up. Again, only half-an-inch or less, smaller. Canada came closer with his back facing Russia's front, they were less than an inch apart. The pale cheeks started to overheat. If he kept on doing that….

_'Damn it, s-stop it. I can't trust myself not to fuck you…'_

"I guess you really are bigger than both me and Al, though Denmark really is a close second." Mattie left the dumbfounded Russian. This was his plan all along.

"I-I have an aweso-"

"Vany, what's going on?" Canada demanded an answer in a commanding yet soft voice.

"You've been spending a lot of time with Netherlands, Da? Are you two dating?" Ivan asked with a crooked line for a mouth.

Mattie's face went blank. He blinked a couple. Tension was thick. Russia wanted to die right on the spot.

Then there was a soft snicker followed by a roar of laughter coming from the big mouth of America's brother.

"NO! Hell no. We're just friends." He continued laughing with his smaller hand resting on Ivan's tensed shoulder. He bent over laughing harder than before.

"What's so funny?" The Russian glared with his cold eyes, it felt like a train crashing on him head on.

"Nothing. Nothing." the laughter quieted down, wiping his tears. "I'm sorry that I haven't told you anything, I just made a promise not to tell." He smiled.

"…And if I do start seeing someone, you'll be the first to know!" he winked causing the taller man to blush. "You know, after Al…and Kumajiki…and Papa…and Arthur!" the addition made Russia wince unnoticeably.

"But since it won't be a secret anymore, I think I can tell…better yet, show you what Me and Lars have been up to. Come on." The Canadian led his friend, crushing him by the wrist.

It was as if the great migration of Monarch butterflies was happening deep inside Russia. He never felt his heart so full and alive before.

Countries were starting to pass them, laughing and chattering softly. They continued not minding the curious looks pointed towards them.

"Mr. Germany?" Mattie stopped walking and peeped inside.

"Ja?" the German turned his head around to their direction. His hear was slicked back but sweat was mixed in with the gel. His face was still reddening, probably recovering from the hours of oxygen-depleting yelling. His eyes widened as he bowed his head down respectfully.

"M-mr. Canada!" he greeted formally.

"um…Ludwig, you can stop doing that. World War Two's long over." The Canadian smiled softly.

"Can you please follow me?" Canada took a few steps towards the door, expecting the two older nations to follow.

They made their way to Oderbruch kippe.

The hills were lush and green and the trees littered around looked beautiful. They were by the man-made stairs when the Russian and the German stopped.

The whole field was somehow filled with tulips of purple hues, some pinkish while some leaned to the bluer side. But amongst them, was a lone tulip of sunset red.

Germany looked at Canada, who nudged him to go down and pick up the tulip. With each hesitant step, it all became clearer to the overworked Ludwig. As he came nearer to the flower of ruby, he noticed a blanket lay out by a tree. It was white and yellow. It had two champagne glasses, a cooler, and a bottle of Tokaji.

"Gelukkige verjaardag, Mijn Liefde" A strong arm came from behind and hugged him by the waist, causing Ludwig to squeak.

"L-lars?" he panicked as he squirmed, only to be eased by the other man's hand on his pale yet overheating cheeks.

"…Glücklicher Jahrestag, meine Liebe…" he replied, all smiley and sentimental…

"French Onion soup, the two of you?" Canada interrupted their kiss with two bowls of freshly made soup, they smiled apologetically and got their respective bowls and sat down on the blanket by the tree.

"Your Beef Bourguignon will be served shortly and for dessert we have chocolate soufflé with molten chocolate and…beer center." Mattie announced before leaving the couple be.

"Just think that about six decades ago, you were about to kill me…" Netherlands gave a small smile causing Germany to blush in embarrassment.

"Y-you know that Hitler brainwashed me or something." He hid his head.

"You know I hate it when you hide that handsome face of yours." The gloved hand guided the German's face by the chin to clash with his lush yellow-green gems.

"Ich liebe dich"

"Ik hou van je ook"

The two Germanic nations kissed deeply and lovingly. Cheers to twenty years.

"So…they're dating?" Russia asked looking at the sight fifty feet away.

"For twenty years, actually. He asked me to cook for him and help him with all the planning, it's hard to work alone you know?" the other busied himself with the food he was preparing from his portable kitchen.

"**_*Sigh* _**I don't know why but I always thought love was silly until I saw how much good it can actually do to a person when that special someone does arrive…" he smiled at his flustered friend.

"D-da, you are right." Russia felt his heart skip every two seconds as the words uttered were true and sweet to his ears. Once you really found that someone it changes you for the better.

_'Just like you…'_ he muttered as he looked at the Canadian cooking away with a bright smile.

* * *

_** . .ILOVEYOUALL.**_

_***Please...I really want to read comments and suggestions...I mean...it'll be awesome to here some of your takes and suggestions.**_


	23. The Last Straw

_**Author's Note:**_

_**Hiya! First Unrequited...yeah, I'm having trouble making Writer's block my bitch...so, eh. "-_- I PROMISE I WILL FINISH IT NO MATTER HOW HARD IT IS!**_

_**I just wanted to make this one too...I totally have more ideas for 'Randomness' than Unrequited so...yeah that's why I'm having trouble with the first one, ideas keep on popping up for this more often than the other.**_

_**Honest question, should I fill my profile or something? Like adding stuff like project updates and my numerous crack pairings and stuff...**_

_**Please comment on something or PM any suggestions or somments.**_

_**GCJakey's Note:**_

_**This story is basically how Canada's the more temperamental twin compared to America. Italy's a lot more awesome and he's in a very cracktastic pairing, it is sooooo cracktastic that most of you might not sleep at all! I WARN YOU! I mean they interacted once...but eh, I think it is soooo not popular and so it's freaking crack.**_

_**Warning: Angry!Canada, Annoyed!America, Awesome!Italians...CRACK IN THE AIR!**_

_**HETALIA's Not OURS! XD**_

* * *

**The Last Straw (feat. Another Crack-tastic pairing)**

"What the Fuck, eh?" the voice of Canada was clear as day to the surprise of all. He barged in wearing a hockey shirt, three thick scarves wrapped around his muscular neck, a hockey helmet, and a lot of protectors. He swung his snapped hockey stick wildly.

Stares were directed towards him. He was finally being noticed, but **_this_** wasn't the type of situation he wanted to get noticed for.

"YOU!" he pointed at his brother with his rigid finger. His light strawberry-honey brother, whose jacket was zipped all way up, looked at him in surprised confusion.

"You caused all of it!" The enraged Canadian grabbed his shocked American brother by the jacket's collar and started to shake him threateningly.

"What do you mean, bro?" the arrows of innocence were directly pointing at the younger twin. But the older one remained adamant in his decision to prosecute him.

"Don't give me that shit! You forgot to pack my lucky shirt that's what!" he snarled pushing America back to his seat.

"So…**_they _**lost." America crossed his arms and pursed his lips, crossing his legs, with the left one's ankle resting on the right knee.

"Oui! You little fucker!" Amethysts were burning in rage. Everybody just decided to watch, even Germany who was having a damned case of the hangover.

"Why are you angry at me? You always told me not to touch your shirt." Alfred answered calmly.

"You could've reminded me!" Mattie kept on pacing in front of his younger twin, trying to keep the heat within him from reaching supernova.

"How the fuck was I suppose to know that you didn't bring it along? I keep on reminding you to double check your things." The American defended himself.

"I wouldn't have forgotten if you didn't keep on asking me to buy stuff at Costco! What is up with you and packing heavy?" his mittened hands tugged on his own champagne-gold crown.

"I-I just like to make sure of… s-stuff." America faltered, noticing the stares of the people he didn't trust, the people who weren't supposed to know any of that.

"What about you? You only bring one…ONE duffle bag. I mean you always…ALWAYS borrow my underwear. You should be the example, lazy ass! I mean, you are older than me by…b-by…" His sapphires contrasted his darkened face as he glanced at the others who were now in clusters, staring at them.

"Oh shut up, you pussy!" he pushed his younger brother violently, while he was in a state of falter.

"So this is the thanks I get for covering for you while you watched your **_precious_** hockey game?" From the way America stood, it looked like he was restraining himself from punching the now violent Canadian.

"What about my shirts? You freaking shrunk all of them! I asked you to do that one thing while I was crapping, but **_no_**, you actually placed a damned game before your own brother!" America snapped the headrest of an innocent chair minding its own business.

"Oh, just shut the fuck up! What the hell do you have to hide?"Canada pulled the zipper all the way down, before pulling America in front of him, in front of the whole world.

The room was now the sight of two-hundred burning rosy cheeks, counting the American representative as well, trying to get out of the tight grip of his brother, who had super strength much like him.

"Smile, brother!" Canada snickered mischievously; his free hand forcing his beloved brother's heated face to face their fellow nations.

His skin was not as pale as most; it wasn't near tanned or sun-kissed; it was warm though like his smiles, painted in a soft blush in some areas. His neck was strong and gracefully long, connected to the seductive dip formed by his profound collar bone. His traps were mounds of hard muscle. The seductive neck had two necklaces, one was a simple dog tag joined by a simple crucifix, while the other was a simple thread with an eagle feather and a stone was connected to the bulbous shoulder muscles that strained to be freed from the sleeves that imprisoned his huge arms. The top part rested its weight on the perfect pectoral mounds that had a deep valley between them, emphasizing built. It tapered down to the agonizingly defined stomach that was founded by long treks to the frontier and German-style military training and developed by numerous sports, pumping iron, and dancing. It was seductively slim, not even his pants and belt were snug around the form, and it bulked up just by the waistband of his blue boxer-briefs due to the obliques. The washboard had a trail of golden hair, but his skin made it almost impossible to see.

His warm skin had three bullet wounds in the right chest and small cuts and puncture wounds scattered along the abs, though they weren't many. His left side had a long and thin scar and the crook of his neck had a small but thick scar.

"STOP IT, MAPLE-WHORE!" Alfred shouted, writhing and wriggling. He hated his bare torso being revealed. He managed to kick the man behind him, causing the other to stumble back with a heated glare.

The American, with his back turned, panted heavily, rubbing his soring neck. His jacket slid down just a bit, giving the watchers a view of the tattoo he had on his right shoulder blade over a scar. It was a pair of tribal feathers that faded to smaller feathers.

Denmark sat at a corner in solitude as he tried to keep his nose bleed manageable with his sweaty hands. America was too fucking hot to handle…especially with ice cream dripping from his neck down…down…down…

Russia was seated in his chair rather too quiet, with sweat soaking his scarf and clothes. Angry Canada's fucking hot, especially the thought of him controlling such a beast in bed…was too…too…too awesome.

"Can't, porkchop!" Canada stood up.

"MOOSE HUGGER!" America came closer.

"OVERSENSITIVE BITCH!" Mattie kicked his brother causing him to topple over him.

"BIEBER-BITCH!" the younger tugged the Canadian by the collar.

"SHITTY-MUSICIAN-WORSHIPPER!" The older pushed the American off.

Alfred snorted; he had good taste in music…he isn't always fond of loud music.

America: "As if, ROBSTEN-ADDICT!"

Canada: "SUBSTANCE ADDICT!"

America: "TWO-FACE DOUCHE!"

Canada: "SLUT!"

America: "PACIFISTIC MORON!"

Canada: "WAR-FREAK!"

"At least, I'm not some hockey-obsessed fuck-face! It controls you're life, dude. Hockey season always makes you grumpy and sloppy…PLUS, DO I HEAR A FUCKING THANK YOU WHENEVER I DO YOUR WORK FOR YOU!?" the strawberry blonde hair was entangled with the crown of champagne, sparks flying everywhere.

… Everybody gasped in surprise.

"I NEVER TOLD YOU TO DO ANYTHING FOR ME!" the older one's face heated in embarrassment.

"I DO IT 'COZ I DON'T WANT YOU TO GET IN TROUBLE WITH YOUR BOSS!" In spite of the good intentions, the tone carried it as a violent complain.

"My boss is too awesome for that, eh?" He snarled. Everything made him angry, especially his twin brother. He knew everything about him, just as much as the other knew him.

"At least I'm not afraid of professional figure skaters!"

"…I-I just hate the way they dress i-is all!" Canada blushed before anger consumed him tenfold.

He could fucking finish the fight right fucking now.

He could get this over with and leave the guilty American speechless.

The other nations leaned closer, waiting for Canada to make his addition. Except for Denmark, who was now rushing to the bathroom to handle with some…America-related stuff. Russia was heading out the door too, rushing for the nearest broom closet with a locked briefcase in hand…he forgot to chop some _'wood'_ last morning which Canada thankfully reminded him. The suitcase was filled with equipment to handle that.

There was a crash that echoed across the room when the older brother pinned his younger twin to the wall. The latter was fidgeting and sweating, he was cornered.

"At least I'm not afraid of crappy horror movies"

"At least I'm not claustrophobic"

"At least I didn't get beat up by my…" Mattie covered his mouth before he could finish, regretting even planning to use it against his twin brother.

"…A-alien in S-star Craft." the Canadian laughed nervously, making the spectators grunt in disappointment while his beloved brother stood still with his head hanging low.

…

"Al, I-I'm so-" before Mattie could even touch Al's shoulder, the latter stepped back.

His eyes were burning blue, with hints and specks of amber-yellow showing due to his anger. No one but Canada saw it. It had to stay that way.

"Of all the people…I never thought that you'd be the one to do this to me." the violet eyes became pale and wide as his heart broke into millions of pieces.

Everyone made way for the American to leave. His gait was brisk as his hands fumbled to zip his jacket up.

The nations looked at Canada who silently fell to his knees, wearing an unreadable face.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ 

Amazingly, the whole room quieted down, staring at the hockey-obsessed man for a full thirty minutes. Germany, in spite of his horrible hangover, managed to corral the others back to their seats and make most of the remaining time.

Most were sad for Canada, while some were surprised at America. There was stuff circling around like using the twin's argument to start better relations with the two and slowly crack their relationship from there or use the hate between them to destroy each other. They could start a war and benefit from it, their bosses' would've given plaques and laurels of gold. The murmurs went on for an hour or so…

"Are you even listening to yourselves, Ve?" Italy shouted sadly, gaining the attention of the murmuring plotters.

"You do not know how hard it is to fight with family! No matter how much you pretend **_(China)_** you understand family, you do not understand what Canada and America are going through!" even more nations gasped at the sudden change in the Italian's demeanor.

"We are people too. What difference does it make if we tell our bosses about them? Nothing. All we ever do is go to war and sign miscellaneous fees and documents. We don't really do anything anymore. So please be human enough to keep this between us!" Feliciano pleaded, gaining unconvinced scoffs from the rest of the world.

The world roared, disagreeing, while England, France, Japan, Prussia, the Philippines duo, Norway, Belarus, Sweden, Finland, Germany, and Spain were silent, agreeing with the pleading European, if only they could muster enough votes from the others.

"SHUT THE HELL UP BASTARDOS!" Romano joined in with amber eyes filled with murderous intent.

"I can end each fucking one of you right here, right now." He calmed down, shielding his younger brother.

"As if…aru, you are a cowards like your brother aru!" China snorted standing up from his chair some twenty feet away from the Italian.

"Oh...I can be much more dangerous than you think. You should be thankful that I'm the one threatening you and not Veneziano." Lovino waved the dinosaur off, gaining a barrel of laughs from the other nations.

**_*FLING*_**

**_*GASPS*_**

The laughs stopped completely, when a knife missed China's neck by half an inch.

"W-WHAT THE…A-aru?!" The Chinese man was nothing short of terrified.

"_Ho perso da un centimetro…" _The younger Italian pouted before pulling out another dagger with his face childishly innocent. "I know for sure that I'll get it this time…Ve."

**_*Feliciano=Ex-Professional, high-ranking mercenary, trained in hand-to-hand combat and knife-play.*_**

"…_mio fratello _might've _missed_ but I sure won't." there was a click and a small spring snapping. Wang's eyes were staring at the gun pointed at him.

**_*Lovino= firearm specialist and deflection master*_**

"I repeat **_you will not_** do anything to fuck up the fucking twin's business…can somebody**_ please_** wake-up the fucking Canadian moron." He waved his gun carelessly; gaining gasps and curses from the others.

**_*ONLY PROBLEM=INTIMIDATED BY OPEN AREAS*_**

Canada hadn't moved on inch, a fly actually resting on his nose. His eyes were dull unblinking violet.

"Are they **_that _**fucking close? Tell me." Romano asked.

"They're very…very close…Canada's just not visible to you people, so nobody really notices it, mi amigos!" Spain cooed in, answering his friend's question.

"And you have?" South Italy scowled sourly.

"Sí! It is very cute actually, like how they swat each other to pay attention…or how they just lean on each other…or when they pass on jokes about _Inglaterra_…or how they always bug each other to change clothes when their sweaty…*SIGH*…lindo." Toni's face was lax with his eyes drooping and squeals uncagable.

"…Igen!" Hungary joined in. "What's more is that they have this all awesome _'bro-with-benefits' _thing going on! It's one of my profitable...er…n-nothing!" She immediately sat back, trying to hide from the raised-brow looks thrown at her.

"Oh…mon petit Canada…we have maple syrup for you!" the French man came from behind the distraught nation, coaxing him out of his mental prison.

Canada was unresponsive.

"…um…R-robsten is back…" England tried his best to not fumble or cuss at the stupidity of the whole thing.

"He's over them, mon couer." France sighed while patting on Mattie's shoulder non-stop.

"H-how was I supposed to know, b-bloody frog!" Arthur stood up defiantly with a heated look intended to melt Francis's face.

"If you just spent more time with them you should've known that he went through consoling just to move on!" the taller man stood up practically gluing his forehead onto the shorter man's forehead in irritation.

"I blame you for making him go with you to that damned gay movie!" England shoved his lover away.

"I was supposed to be going with you but you decided to take a rain-check!" France marched back up puffing his toned chest.

"I hate false movies!" the bushy-browed nation knocked on the hard skull of the frog.

"And I hate it when my boyfriend doesn't go out on a date with me." The gloved hands made its way to the bushes on top of his emerald eyes.

"You suck at being a parent!" the opposite set of hands made their way on his beard.

"You suck worse. I mean, you thought that they were flabby and anorexic before you saw them naked! How the fuck do you miss hot bodies like they do? You do not appreciate them at all!" France struggled as a hand made its way to his mouth.

"You pamper them too much! You could've stopped Matthew's obsession." The other hand was tugging on the nourished-silk hair.

"…And you could've stopped Alfred's catnip problem!" France started banging their heads together.

"Shut the fuck up!"

"Make me, eyebrows!"

"…Halt den Mund!" Prussia shouted causing both blondes to stop strangling each other.

"…Oi..Canada…" The Albino kneeled in front of the blank man. He unwrapped a gigantic juicy burger, practically dripping. The smell made everybody in the room hungry, the greasy sloppy sandwich is their ultimate guilty pleasure.

Finally, there was small movement from the nose that inhaled the semi-visible air. His dry eyes closed for a few seconds, savoring the smell. He shook his head and rubbed the side of it.

"A…Al?" his eyes slowly opened. "AL!" his voice became a lot louder. "Where are you, Al?" he stood up running for the door. Germany and Netherlands blocked the door.

"You got to let me find him…y-you don't know what his about to do!" he begged on his knees, gripping on their clothes.

"I-I don't think that confronting him now would be a good decision." The German reasoned.

"I told you that YOU DON'T FUCKING KNOW!" He marched towards the gigantic table before slamming his fist on it, unbolting it from the floor.

"MOVE."

The lovers dispersed trying hard to not shake in fear.

He rammed through the door, sprinting down the hall. He got his phone out, calling the only_ thing_ that could help him.

"T-tony?" he faltered, still running.

"Shit?"

"Yeah, it's Mattie…is Al there?"

"Fuck."

"Could you check t-the Atlantic?"

"Fuck you?" the alien asked curiously.

"We had a little fight."

"Mother fucker." There was a slight tinge of anger that coated the pitchy voice of Tony.

"It's n-not my-"

Tony sighed, he knew what the fight was all about."Dick."

"Yes, it was hockey-related."

"Fag."

"Yes, it was about my lucky shirt. Now, would you please help me…y-you know what happens when shit like this happens."

…

"You used the _'three'_, didn't you?" Tony spoke out in englsih.

"T-two and three-quarters…"

"Damn it, Mattie. You fucking moron. You know that the reason he takes catnip was because of **_that _**day. You know that that was the day that fucked him up much more than the time Good ol' Abe decided to punch him for messing with the civil war. You know that that day made him more suicidal than he was before. You know that that day changed him forever." The Alien started lecturing him, daunting like a mother.

… That date was just around the corner. They date when he got a call from Kiku that Alfred went all wild cat-bird on him and was now sedated and sleeping. He also reported about seeing a lot of bruises that didn't seem self-administered, Halloween masks, and a bloodied home-made sweater with Kiku's name knitted in Japanese.

The Japanese man started to croak, piecing more and more of the jigsaw puzzle together. According to him there was a bloody note warning Alfred to not push through with meeting Kiku without **_'their'_** consent, that the damned oriental demon was nothing but a bastard until **_'they'_** said so.

_"…C-canada-san…h-his boss…did this…"_ the terrified voice of Japan rang his ears painfully.

"T-tony…I am really …s-sorry…" he stopped right by the door, his hand frozen, clutching the doorknob.

"Don't say it to me, fag. Tell it to your suicidal brother." His grey friend practically shouted before hanging up.

_'…but he could be anywhere by now…wings and all…he could be in any street or alley, with all the catnip in him, he could be in America by now or even in Asia or the arctic.'_

His pained expression was met with a flash of lightning and a roar of thunder. His dull amethysts looked outside the window by the door. The clouds were circling around the tower where their apartment was.

The lighting flashed white-blue and slight orange and the thunder sounded like wings beating hard. There was only one nation who could do that.

"…Al…"

* * *

America didn't mean to whip up a localized thunder storm around the building, he was just pissed. It wasn't today's confrontation; no, it was just the breaking point.

He just had about enough of everybody; he's been tolerant of his older twin's obsession for decades. He always kept his mouth shut when Arthur was being an utter bitch when Francis gets late for their numerous dates. Or how Francis should keep his hands off others since he already has a boyfriend, who has been his for a century and a half. Or how Wang keeps on forcing that Ivan likes him. Or how Ludwig keeps on shouting, trying to pretend that Lars wasn't pleasuring him under the table.

His tolerance was pushed even further with his**_ heads_**. Nowadays, he always lets his bosses do all the serious shit, since they didn't give a damn about his opinion anymore, keeping the urge to correct their mistakes in equations, demographics, grammar, and basic logic inside him.

He's always been tolerant, always accepting new people and new cultures. But actually confronting him while he was keeping himself calm was the last straw.

Sure, he might be prone to hurting himself, but he doesn't hate himself so much that he would let his heart stop and die… well, the thought crossed his mind the first time but the succeeding incidents weren't as serious.

Should people call him thick-skinned? Sometimes he wonders, he has never voiced out his real opinions about anything during the meetings, he just raises issues that his boss want him to bring up and other that that he'd just speak up about random thoughts that he knew wouldn't be welcomed.

He learned that lesson the hard way more than once. Arthur disciplined him, way back then. Abe punched him during the civil war. Somebody else beat the crap out of him for hanging out with Denmark instead of reporting to him when the First World War's over. And then there was the time when he was ambushed by men in Halloween masks during thanksgiving when he invited Kiku to spend it with him, since they haven't been able to talk each other for months after the Second World War.

America could beat the crap out of all of them, but they had the power to hurt others, his people and his friends. He would rather deal with the pain than actually letting them hurt others.

His mind swam for a few more moments. His jacket zipped all the way down, sagging down the couch, as he lied on his back. His forearms served of the pillow for his raspberry-honey head. His feet were kicked up, letting the left one's heel rest on the bent right's knee, in turn resting on the arm rest of the sofa.

He heard the oven timer ring; he flipped to his bare feet, with his unbelted pants sagging even more. He rolled up his right sleeve showing his wrist tattoo, a simple thorny bracelet under a very old woven bracelet, browned after an eon, some red beads here and there. Let's just say it really means a _lot _to him.

He got his oven mitt and opened the oven; the room immediately smelled like crispy roast turkey with spiced meat, caramelized onions, garlic, pumpkin and carrots all tossed in generously with herbs.

He stood up, placing it on the counter top to cool for a bit, he wiped the slight sweat from his forehead. He looked down his awesome abs, smiled, and patted it.

"I'm gonna eat 'til yer gone fer the night!" he spoke in his soft Texan accent. It just came natural to him, not at all forced like his more popular accent.

He heard the door open. He sighed.

_'He's here.'_

"…A-Al…AL!?" his twin's voice was louder than usual; even he didn't appreciate things that were too loud **_(except Denmark)._**

"AL!" his older twin came in, in all his hockey-fan glory, still wearing his heavy hockey shirt, and the mask and the three scarves and he was seating all over. America sighed again. He sat by the meager table for two by the wall.

There was a ball of alpaca wool and knitting needles on the table. He didn't dare look at his brother and decided to continue on making the sweater.

So how the fuck does he know how to make a sweater?

Because he's awesome.

"Al…please…please **_*sniff**sniff*_**…m-my…f-fau**_-*sob*" _**he ran to hug his twin, who didn't reciprocate it or even acknowledge him. He whined and sobbed like a baby, trying to get his brother's attention.

He tugged on his strong arm and tickled his ticklish abs, but nothing. He didn't stop knitting. Canada sat on the chair opposite to the one America was seating on.

"AL! P-PLEASE!" his voice croaked pathetically, actually it was even funny. He kept on pulling on Alfred's hands that didn't move.

The younger North American sighed once more and held out the ball of yarn to be held by the older. The latter looked stunned but proceeded crying once he got a hold of the soft yarn.

Then another sigh, he made him stand up. Again, there were tears.

Then another sight, he made him raise his arms all up. Again, there were tears.

Then another sigh, he pulled his shirt off. Again there were tears running down his pale muscled body almost identical to his twin, only having a tuft of hair in the middle of his chest, a tribal maple leaf tattoo on his left shoulder blade, and a wider waist-line due to the cold climate. His arms were still up, the musky smell was strong.

"Al! Al! Al! m'sorry." He stomped his feet wildly, with arms still up. The only time he stopped was one he felt something soft cover him, something warm.

"I don't want you to catch a cold." America had a scowl on his face; guiding his brother's arms down, rubbing it with the soft wool sweater he's been making for a few weeks or so.

"I-I won't do that to you ev-ever again." He hugged his younger brother tightly. "I'm s-sorry…I'll never let…let my obsession get the best of me…you're the most important thing to me right now. You don't deserve to be r-reminde-"

"I don't care if you do it again." America smiled, running his fingers through the nest of soft buttery blonde.

"W-what?" Canada sniffled his runny nose.

"I don't care…" he smiled warmly, caressing the red cheek "…'coz I'll butcher you the next time you do it."

There was an uneasy silence broken by a hearty laugh.

"Stop talking like that. I'm not your boyfriend, bro. I know we do it from time to time, but we both do it just to get frustration out, right?" Alfred laughed loudly, hugging his brother who was resting his head on the strong crook of his twin's neck.

"I know." Canada laughed happily through the tears. "S-so, can we eat the turkey now?"

"Not yet. We still have to watch a scary claustrophobic movie" America answered with a bit of fear.

"Oh **_no_**, I won't let you watch it." He stopped crying, staring at his twin's hypnotic, pleading orbs.

"Fine."

"I knew you were gonna see it my way." Alfred grinned as he led his brother to the sofa outside the kitchen.

* * *

**_EXTRA STORY TIME: Another Crack-tastic Story!_**

Italy just finished his thirty-minute run on the treadmill. Even if the elite Mercenary firm that included him, his brother, and the North American twins was disbanded for half a century already, it was no reason not to keep himself trim. In spite of the heart break on their part every time they were ordered to kill, their silent friendship kept them strong and now they were free from their shackles. Actually the secret brotherhood was the main reason he defended the North Americans when the world wanted to drive the wedge between them further.

With his mind replaying the events that transpired, he hadn't noticed that he was already past one-hundred push-ups. Germany would be so proud of him, he mused. He didn't always work out like this, he was more into dancing and other aerobic workouts, but of course he didn't want to be just light built. He didn't want his body to be seen as girly, even though he usually wore baggy shirts.

He stood up, lifting his tight green tank top. His lightly tanned body drenched in sweat. His was slim, but masculinely slim. Probably, in between serious dancer and swimmer in built. His amber eyes flashed for a second, before closing. His nose started to sniff the air…registering a strong scent.

He sniffed his wet arm pits and was sure it wasn't him. He swiped his delicate yet callused fingers through the small wet brunette bush, smelling it…_no_, it definitely wasn't him.

Just then, a thick arm came from behind wrapping his narrow waist. The taut back was pressed on a very large chest. He could smell the intoxicating scent. He always felt giggly and happy when he felt his presence.

He looked down the arm that was holding his waist, lightly groping his tight six-pack. It was beautifully tanned and covered in dark hair. He felt the soft yet masculine lips that came in contact with his extended shoulder blade. He closed his eyes, feeling the hairy and hard body behind him that has formed a small gut, but still had flat in profile, and with six decently defined bumps that Feliciano loved to tickle.

The Italian had always asked _him_ to stop shaving his body all over that's why _he_ stopped. He hated the pointy sprouts that grew after a day, yes it takes only a day. These small needles always made it hard for him to hug him or kiss him. But what he hated more was the way it made his lover itchy and irritated until it all grew back thicker than ever. He hated seeing him sad or annoyed.

The man behind him lost the title as biggest **_(body)_** country to Russia, who was just an inch taller than he was, then to Denmark, who was two inches shorter, and was tied with Sweden, who was as tall as Russia.

Actually, Germany, even though he was already with Lars, didn't seem comfortable seeing Feli date _him_. He was worried that _he_ was too old. The comment made them both laugh; they were all eons old, so what if they aged differently? It's not like he chose to like him, he just allowed his feelings to flourish.

Germany should've seen the look on Italy's face when he realized he fell for the old man he beat all those years ago.

"…Sadiq… you're starting to smell again, ve?" he teased his lover of a decade.

"Later…you look too sexy…Aşkım" he went on kissing up the back of his raised arm.

Turkey laughed loudly causing Italy to giggle softly. "So, you want pasta tonight, il mio amore."

The Turk smiled, flashing his clear green eyes down the smaller man. His stare was soft and happy, nodding simply. "I love whatever you'll cook." He hugged him tightly, not wanting to let go.

"…you are really starting to smell, ve!" the Italian laughed and kissed the hairy cheek. "Hit the showers please." He captured the other's lips in a passionate kiss.

"Fine. Fine. But, tonight's Oil wrestling night." He pushed away, in a small sulking pout. He headed for the bathroom but not before slapping the tight small ass of his young lover.

"I'm pretty sure that I'll be getting that ass of yours again, Feli." Sadiq snickered.

Italy looked at the beautiful hairy body that had a very large and intricate vine pattern tattoo that engulfed his left side spreading down his front thigh. It's always a hot scene to see, especially when he teases about picking the flowers off of the tattoo.

Feliciano, recovering from his yelp, glanced at him with an innocent smile. "I'll try my best to beat you this time." He laughed. Sadiq returned it with his very dominating smug grin.

"I-I never get to top anymore…makes me feel less like a man…" The Italian pouted, rubbing his left arm comfortingly.

The Turk was overcome by concern and guilt…he could plow him any time of day…but he never let Feli do him unless it was his birthday or on their anniversary or Christmas and that one time on Halloween. Maybe, he could bottom for him tonight. He does enjoy the way his beloved Italian enters him, heck…he's a lot louder than the younger European actually.

"Win or lose tonight, you'll be plowing me." He said briskly before running for the bathroom door, slamming it in embarrassment.

"…He can be so cute at times…" Feliciano sighed, before heading towards the kitchen, readying their dinner.

* * *

**_EXTRA EXTRA: the aftermath_**

Russia came out of the main building with his briefcase ruined and tattered. But that wasn't what was most peculiar; it was the fact that he had a bag of ice in front of his pants and on his ass. If you thought that that was all, he shoved frozen peas down his boxer briefs hours ago. Yes, hours ago. His legs were so numb that he couldn't even move to get outside of the closet. He was too ashamed to call for help and since he was too numb to even pull his trousers up.

He started walking towards his building, when he saw a very peculiar sight as well.

Denmark, a country whom he respected deeply but wasn't really that close to personally, had an ice pack on the small of his back and in front of his pants, and he seemed to be having a hard time walking, though not as bad as him.

The mesmerizing icy-blues clashed with the violet stones.

"I-I got my awesome dick kicked by a r-random girl. I accidentally touched her boobs." The Dane lied rather miserably. Ivan was not at all impressed, but he didn't give a fuck and he needed an excuse himself.

"…me too…" he said before heading their way, wishing that no one else saw them like this.

* * *

_**YES, TurkIta... IT IS THE ESSENCE OF CRACK!**_

_**Anyway, I think that Turkey's more nurturing side can be brought out by the childish Italy and Italy matured a bit 'coz the Turk doesn't pamper him and gives him a truck load of things to do until he learned to be responsible and mature enough. Well something like that, I don't know if I' phrasing it write, my head hurts a bit.**_

_** . .LOL!**_


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